Tag
by Lil' Monk
Summary: Now classified AU, ever since chapter 318. What if a certain store owner fought a cat, without holding back? Yumichika & Shuuhei teach a certain captain something. A ring of Benihime-Kisuke-Yoruichi-Byakuya-Kuukaku... really?
1. Prologue

_**Updated A/N (30/10/2009): **_After not reading Bleach for almost 3 years, I have finally caught up with the remaining chapters. Hence, chapters 1-18 in my fic, which were finished on **15/10/2005,** are to be considered AU. Thank You for reading.

**Disclaimers**: Inspired by chapter 118, then 179. Spoilers all the way from chapter 118 onwards. It all started out as a whim. Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are in this font, as they are being remembered).

**Onigoto** (in the Edo period) was derived from a court ritual (oniyarai) to drive away demons that cause disasters. It means 'tag' or 'blindman's buff'.

The storyline is a mingling of past and present that eventually merges. Apologies for this short prologue. The length of chapters depends on how the story pans out along the way and could vary. To make the scenes clearer:

_Followed by words in this font ---Past_

Followed by words mainly in this font ---Present.

**Prologue**

_An eerily bright globe suspended in dusky heavens amidst a sea of quiet was a pleasing sight. Admiring the tranquil atmosphere was a favourite hobby for the man with a somewhat damaged striped hat, accompanied by a sleek black cat. Perched on an iron balcony with faded peach-coloured chips flaking off it, the biped was having a harder time maintaining balance beside his feline companion._

"_I've done all I can with the boy in this limited time, Yoruichi-san. The rest is up to you."_

_"Don't worry. If his potential is as great as you say, everything should work out. I will definitely help him the entire way."_

_Slight shuffling was heard as reaching beneath moss-green robes, the first speaker attempted to blow his nose in a retrieved handkerchief and stay upright at the same time. Flapping both arms frantically as he began swaying back and forth like an unstable pendulum, his friend had to restrain herself from laughing at the ridiculous sight, him reminding one of a panicking plucked chicken before it got shoved off a plank into hot water._

"_Woah... that almost sounded like a promise. Just like you swore not to leave the Correction Corps or Special Covert Op-"_

_"Kisuke. This is not the time to start-"_

_"Especially when you believed so strongly in your role there. I was the exiled one, not you; you didn't have to-"_

_"Urahara Kisuke!"_

_That feral snarl was like a gunshot signal for the two to start glaring at each other. It didn't last for more than five seconds before narrowed yellow slits were directed towards the moon once more. _

"_Fine, I'll admit I'm not exactly the type with a dedicated attention span-"_

_"More like a much shorter form of perseverance."_

_"You mean 'commitment', Mop-head. I may be terrible at it-"_

_That kind of reply from her nearly flustered him into toppling off entirely. Barely managing to stay seated by hunching forward, his intended interruption was disrupted by this rare bit of frankness in place of her usual honesty._

_"But at least I could stay true all this while to our friendship, though why I continually put up with your endearing nonsense makes me think I'm mad at times."_

"_Isn't the evasive issue also one of the main reasons why you left in the first place?" _

_Silence was now a coating of frosty hardness one could barely cut through with a chainsaw. _

_"The punishment wasn't fair on you. I'm not about to throw aside my best friend, neither can I stay where injustice prevails."_

_"Yet you're about to return to the place you could never forget in all these centuries. Soi Fong will be there, Yoruichi-san. So will he."_

"_Ichigo will succeed. That is all that matters now. Then I will return."_

"_It was never fair on him."_

_"Concern yourself with your student instead. Goodnight."_

_Bounding off the railing to land noiselessly on cracked concrete, furry mink disappeared into the darkness._

* * *

That extremely talented human was now her problem. Cursing beneath her breath while speeding towards the white tower gleaming like an over-polished blade, Yoruichi was furious at herself for not paying closer attention to Kurosaki Ichigo. The foolhardy youngster would definitely end up dead if she didn't intervene. Despite the anger and accumulating frustration, none of it was evident on her face. She had learnt to wear the mask of superficial deception that she despised.

_Damn you, Kisuke. Damn you for this hotheaded student, along with your crackpot ideas and plans, especially your suggestions..._


	2. Memories

**A/N**: When I use the word 'man', I'm using it in the context of gender and not (im) mortality.

To make the scenes clearer:

_Followed by words in this font ---Past. _

Followed by words mainly in this font---- Present.

**Previously**:

She had learnt to wear the mask of superficial deception that she despised.

_Damn you, Kisuke. Damn you for this hotheaded student, along with your crackpot ideas and plans, especially your suggestions..._

_0o----------------------o0_

**Memories**

"_I'm bored. Between hills of paperwork, all-out training, life-threatening missions and listening to your inventive craziness, routine has become rather unappealing."_

_Re-sheathing his Benihime, the man with wind-blown hair straggling everywhere sighed. _

_"It's not as if you're wasting your time, since we do egg each other on. But seeing you want a challenge, hm..."_

_Dust swirled about uneven rock as her best friend pondered. Then inscrutable satisfaction gradually crept over his face, his particular expression making her rather uncomfortable._

_"You've not used your speed in a while to tease that shinigami. Don't you like bringing the so-called 'stuffy and pompous' types down a few notches?"_

_Both knew she was unmatched in shyunpo inside Soul Society, with the possible exception of Genryuusai-shishou. The outcome of this proposed diversion was a dull certainty, but the prospect of doing so... the captain of the twelfth division and founder of the Research Institute of Technology threw in extra bait._

"_It's not the destination that's always important; the journey counts too, remember?"_

""_I'll think about it. In the meantime, our combat practice has left me ravenous. You owe me dinner. Let's go!"_

_Laughing, the two shinigami turned and raced back towards Seirei-tei._

* * *

"Scatter-"

There was no time to think or feel, only to react. In the blink of an eye, Senbonzakura's power was prevented from further release with the temporary binding technique.

Leaping back and standing, positioning herself between her objective and the other two captains, she ignored wide-eyed disbelief and puzzled stares from both sides. Nothing mattered at this point, except for the youth whom Kisuke had pinned his hopes on. Eyes focused on the wide expanse of worn wood ahead, possible plans were made and discarded in an instant. There was only one way. She wouldn't fail with these... people as her opponents. Too bad her memories were just as sharp and pervasive, invading her train of thought with their annoying persistence.

_I must be ready before our impetuous hero can act; remembering irrelevance does not help..._

* * *

_Nothing spectacular about his moves, maybe even a bit too... slow for a supposed elite warrior. No fun here. She'd have to find other ways to amuse herself-_

_"Stop spying, Shihouin-sempai."_

_Interesting. He'd found out fast and recognized her spiritual aura from this distance without even giving any previous indication. How had he done that? The only other prodigy who had been able to do so and was not yet a vice-captain, was Ichimaru Gin. Hers had been heavily subdued to the point that it was almost non-detectable. Looking down from the well-hidden branch more than fifteen feet off the ground, she had to ask._

_"How did you know?"_

_Without hesitating, his answer was as smooth as gliding over ice. _

_"Very few shinigami have reached the stage whereby they can skilfully contain and conceal their cultivated energy. They become a lot more powerful when the full pressure is released. You are one of the rare few who can do so." _

_Good. That meant she might be entertained a while longer._

"_Plus, your obvious slyness was a dead giveaway."_

_The stout branch nearly broke beneath her clenched fist. Shihouin Yoruichi did not like the way he behaved, or the dismissive attitude he was displaying. Crushing such arrogance would be a pleasure to savour. Leaping down from her observation spot, she smiled dangerously while walking towards the much taller man._

_"Kuchiki-bo, I only stayed to watch because your movements were rather... sluggish. The standards for our officers have really declined. I was thinking of challenging you but after that observation, I leave you to your training. Good da-"_

"_State your challenge."_

_"I refuse to talk to the back of someone who's clearly lacking in decorum."_

_He turned around. Dark eyes held a disquieting glimmer before it vanished. Was that annoyance? His impassive face was as distant and pale as refined marble. If the arrogant man became any more inanimate, this household would not be lacking in granite for its pillars. Time to put him in his place. Slim brown fingers brandished a reddish stick the length of his thumb._

"_My chalk... against your blade."_

_0o------------------------o0_

List of Definitions by alphabetical order

**Shishou**: master

**Seirei-tei**: Court of Pure Souls

**Senpai/Sempai**: Term of respect given to an elder, mentor or a more senior person. Sempai is the verbal form; senpai is the written form.

**Shyunpo**: A demon art a shinigami uses that allows the user to 'warp' i.e. move extremely fast beyond the abilities for the normal eye to see. Also known as 'Instant or Flash (shyun-) step (-po).'


	3. Past, meet Present

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: When I use the word 'man', I'm using it in the context of gender and not (im) mortality.

To make the scenes clearer:

_Followed by words in this font---- Past._

Followed by words mainly in this font ----Present.

**Previously**:

_Time to put him in his place. Slim brown fingers brandished a reddish stick the length of his thumb._

_"My chalk... against your blade."_

0o-------------------------o0

**Past, meet Present**

"Yo- Yoruichi..." stuttered the teenager with bleached hair from behind her. She was going to have to do this. No other choice. Kisuke would understand and so would Ichigo, after a few more days. Poised to act, his voice like wintry blizzards raking a desolate landscape stopped her. So different from the exclamation loaded with venom seconds earlier.

"... Ex-commander of the division of Special Covert Operations, also the ex-general of the Correction Corps-"

Her eyes flickered sideways towards the speaker.

"Shihouin Yoruichi."

Mouth hardening into a thin line, what she initially saw was obsidian creasing of the dofuku and hakama beneath a white, billowing haori that all captains wore.

"Haven't seen you in a while."

She finally looked into pitch-black iciness, not uttering a single word at dull loathing in those flat statements. Those eyes were like bottomless wells that gave away nothing, dark lashes lowering but not hiding piercing accusation from the leader of the Sixth Division. _There's something very different about him... as if..._

"Disappearing for over a hundred years... I thought you'd given up living a long time ago."

She wished he would shut up.

* * *

_"You wield your soul slayer; I'll use this piece of chalk. At the end of this exercise, we'll know who has been more skilful, judging by the marks left on each other. Don't hold back..." _

_He would wipe the mockery from her insolent demeanour._

_For the next fifteen minutes, all was relatively quiet. The subdued hum of leaves rustling among sturdy boughs, flowers swaying lazily on their stalks. Clear water trickled reassuringly over smooth boulders into a large pond. There were only two differences: The birds were no longer chirping. There was no wind._

_If any passers-by were to peer over long, high walls scoped with tiles and into the sprawling grounds of a back garden, all they would see was beautifully spaced greenery and weathered stone, separated by bamboo screens with woven rushes. Nothing would seem out of the ordinary. However, on closer scrutiny it might be possible to see almost-invisible movement that never stayed long at any one spot. Unless that observer had minimal skills equivalent to that of the vice-captains commanding Gotei 13, it would be impossible attempting to keep track of these two entities._

_Finally resting on tiptoe atop a large rock --the colour of a mallard's egg-- in the middle of the koi pond, Shihouin Yoruichi smiled as nimble fingers twirled her choice of weapon in lazy circles._

_Gazing at the other figure, whose black and blue-grey garments were now decorated with enough crimson to appear as if they were breaking into a rash, she had to resist the urge to burst out laughing. Watching those enigmatic dark eyes widen as he took in the sight of his soiled hakama, yukata and haori, before looking at her fully intact clothing. Well, she was gracious enough to give him a minor consolation._

_"Don't feel too humiliated, Kuchiki-san. I enjoyed myself thoroughly in our game of onigoto. Your shyunpo isn't too bad... I was only joking about your speed. Good day!"_

_Vanishing in the twinkling of an eye, her high spirits were restored. Time to drag Urahara Kisuke out of his laboratory and indulge in an enterprising exchange of ideas. Then they could drink happoshu later by the river. Oh damn, there was a whole mountain of paperwork to wade through first..._

* * *

No, she was not in a good mood. Hearing rash lunacy from Kurosaki Ichigo was a welcome reminder of her mission, but it also tested her temper. This child had no inkling yet of what true power was, and she would not let him be slain by it.

"Defeat him? With your current standard?"

Opening up a balled fist, she glanced back at him.

"...Don't be foolish."

Ichigo's face blanched as his insides seemed to explode in searing pain. He stared in disbelief at the arm protruding from his bandages; sticky red liquid coated the skin of one he thought was an ally.

* * *

_"Had a great day?"_

_"Definitely!"_

_Judging by the self-satisfaction evident in her posture, his irascible friend had accomplished her mischievous goal. Lying back on the grassy riverbank and staring up at starless night, he decided to punish her via merciless teasing._

_"I assume you succeeded in breathing some semblance of humility into the man."_

_"Oh please, it's impossible enough breathing life into him, let alone humour. Humility... I'd like to think I was successful for at least a second. Fortunately it's only a one-off thing. I have you to thank for the fun."_

_"It's nothing. You're my dearest friend."_

_Contented silence blanketed them. _

_"Kisuke?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_I'll always be here for you."_

_A husky chuckle was his answer. _

_"Don't sound so serious, it's not as if I'd consider asking for that kind of heavy-duty backup... yet."_

* * *

Rukia was horrified. So was Hanatarou. The two captains were just as bewildered and shocked at the turn of events.

She could read the questioning of betrayal in those innocent eyes, just like the fact that he was about to pass out. Trampling any murmurs from a conscience at this brutal method, she yanked out her hand.

_Forgive me, K- Ichigo... this is the only alternative you left me. I will not let you foolishly throw away your life and his aims here._

0o---------------o0

List of definitions by alphabetical order

**Dofuku **(that, plus the hakama, is what I guess makes up the black clothing worn by shinigami known as shihakusho): Comes in two types: there is a knee-length version (known as _ko-dôfuku_), and the ankle-length version that looks a lot like a dressing gown except with wider sleeves. Two sets of ties (one inside and one outside the garment at the waist) secure it closed. The skirt section is cut rather full and tapers out in a vague bell shape. The sides remain open until the waistline where the skirt begins. Worn by those pursuing spiritual or artistic matters and developed from a monastic garment. It's tucked into the hakama here. Of course, each individual modifies it slightly.

**Gotei 13**: Thirteen Court Guardian Divisions.

**Hakama**: Skirt-like pants comprising seven folds(five in front, 2 at the back.). All the folds have a different symbolic meaning, which I'll explain if asked.

**Happoshu**: Low malt beer

**Haori**: short silk button-less jacket falling to the knees, wide sleeves extending to the wrist.

**Koi**- colourful carp

**Yukata**-Summer kimono. (Kimono: literally 'thing to wear'. The word "ki-mono" was invented in the Meiji era (1868-1912).

How the three pieces of clothing are worn: the yukata is tucked into the hakama, with the haori worn like an open coat over them. Here, Byakuya's yukata and haori are black, while his hakama is blue-grey.


	4. Senpai

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: The past tells one story (from my imagination). The present tells another (following the manga). I'll be reconciling these two together eventually so if it seems somewhat disjointed for now, that is the intended effect. Sorry if it gives anyone headaches.

To make the scenes clearer:

_Followed by words in this font ----Past._

Followed by words mainly in this font ---Present.

**Previously:**

Trampling any murmurs from a conscience at this brutal method, she yanked out her hand.

_Forgive me, K- Ichigo... this is the only alternative you left me. I will not let you foolishly throw away your life and his aims here._

0o---------------------o0

**Senpai**

_Humming a melody way off-key as she strolled towards the north gate, Yoruichi was going over the latest mission objectives in her mind. At the same time, she was struggling to decide on... dessert. Her grandfather's birthday was coming up, and he had a fondness for sweets. Wanting everything to be perfect made choosing much harder. Nevermind, she'd approve of anything their chief cook suggested. Besides, there was still the matter of herbs she had to buy. He loved his o-kayu and even though it wasn't the correct occasion, preparing his favourite type personally for him at this celebration every year was an enjoyable ritual of hers. What were the herbs? Nazuna, hakobe, suzuna, seri, hotokenoza, hahakogusa... uh, what was the last one agai- _

_Leaping forward and falling into a half- crouch, she then propelled herself up and over the sweep of a scabbard. On landing, the warning bite of steel against her throat was accompanied by scathing frostiness. _

"_Did you presume to escape me, with that level of shyunpo?"_

_What sounded almost like a purr tickled hair tucked behind his ear, one hand locking around his wrist as she was braced against his back, sticking like a limpet to a rock._

_"Did you presume to catch me… with such shyunpo?"_

_Both parties did not move._

"_Before I am wrongly accused of molesting you in broad daylight, what is the meaning of seeking me in this manner?"_

_Ignoring the wafer-thin threat in firm contact with his skin, he watched the illusionary duplicate fade away. His manner of requesting made her blink._

_"Are you certain? I'm one unrelenting taskmaster, my training timetable is erratic, plus I have a tendency to pester people into perishing of irritation. I'll decide when it ends. Do you still wish for me to formally tutor you?"_

_"I won't repeat myself."_

_How unpleasant. This kind of behaviour reminded her as to why she considered him to be a skilled, arrogant... bore. Somewhat like Kisuke though, in the way they both strove for personal power, thus with a high possibility of eventually standing head and shoulders above their peers. Whether the reasons were the same was doubtful. However, that he would actually ask her for something like this spoke volumes about the effect of their previous encounter. Very well, she would test his mettle to see if he was worth her time. _

_"The fundamental basis of Shyunpo lies in Gomoku. Being able to see well ahead of your opponent's plans is an asset the best warriors master. The greater your hindsight at gauging circumstances and formulating accurate solutions while countering your enemy, the more adept you become at this aspect of the demon arts."_

_"Shall we commence training then, Shihouin-senpai?"_

_Cold metal grazing his throat wavered dangerously. There was a tic above the corner of her left eye, as a slanted eyebrow twitched. _

_"Good grief! Don't call me 'senpai'; that makes me feel so old..."_

_Withdrawing and re-sheathing the slim tantō, she turned around and began walking off. Acutely aware of the tall, sombre noble who had no trouble keeping up, nevertheless she wondered if Kisuke had been right when he'd scolded her for being too charitable at times. Then again, that generosity was what strengthened her bonds with the likes of Shunsui. Her best friend had always been fiercely protective of his privacy, while she was... similar in this aspect, but chose to deal with it by using a different approach._

_Right now though, all it brought was restless frustration and the feeling that somewhere along the line, agreeing to help this one improve had not been such a good idea…_

_"Kuchiki-san, we'll pick up where we left off in your garden."_

_The deliberately emphasised monotony of his reply elicited an unprecedented response._

_"This way... Senpai."_

_Never had he reached home so swiftly in his life, his annoyed pursuer giving him invaluable experience on coming up __**really**__ fast with an escape plan. She did not see the fleeting flash of bemused satisfaction across his face. With her assistance, he would be able to increase his powers at a much greater and faster rate. That was all that mattered._

* * *

Leaning forward and bending her knees to take and support his weight, with a small shrug he was lying unconscious and draped over her right shoulder. Expression set with unyielding determination, the truth of her colleague stopped her.

"... It's a drug."

Now the other man facing her had her attention. That one had always been too perceptive. He was unravelling her plans. Understanding was evident on that somber visage.

"Either Gaten or Houten. Releasing a strong tranquilliser directly into the internal organs-"

_Please don't say anymore-_

"You're trying to save him, Yoruichi?"

It was not a question. Denial was futile. This was one of the few people she could not bear to lie to. The mask had been dispelled, stoic calm now filled with sorrow and appeal. The first words she uttered to valued remnants of her past came out as a softly humble plea.

"Ukitake..."

The moment of unspoken agreement between them was shattered by a sense of dread creeping up her spine. It was inevitable. Solemn hostility chilled her to the core.

"Did you think I would allow you to, **Senpai**?"

The battle lines had been drawn.

* * *

_"That's not so pathetic."_

_He was improving rapidly. Despite her brutal bluntness and strict guidance during their weekly sessions (using a kaiken instead of chalk), it was getting much harder to score a hit on him. She had to really elevate her usage level of shyunpo to easily deal with him, especially after imparting Senka to him. The numerous shallow cuts on his body would heal without any scars, if his vanity concerns extended as far as his hair._

_Somersaulting backwards off the elegant blade to increase the distance between them, he appeared behind her in the next instant. Pivoting against his wrist with one hand and warping at the same time, she felt fingers graze a slipper. That was too close. _

_Re-appearing on a tree branch, she grinned at the man situated at the opposite end of the garden._

"_Your ability to anticipate and plan ahead has strengthened vastly."_

_A slight nod of the head was his way of acknowledging her hard-earned praise._

_Yoruichi sighed. If he didn't lighten up, he'd die old and huffy way before his time. Besides, Byakuya still hadn't been able to tag her or acquire a sense of humour, so he would have to get her something again. Hm, what to ask for... he'd been gracious enough to accommodate her little fancies, such as crepe paper in a hundred different colours for Kuukaku's origami fetish, a small flask of the finest-quality seishu for Kisuke, and a baby turtle that she had given to Soi Fong (her subordinate's dumbstruck reaction had been highly entertaining). She wasn't about to exploit his wealth when she had plenty of her own._

_Darn, no ideas as to what her prize should be- Oh wait... Retrieving her cloak, she sauntered triumphantly towards the man who was shrugging on a navy-blue haori._

_"We are going into the third district of East Rukongai."_

_Gazing down at his much shorter colleague, his grave reply momentarily left her debating between exasperation and socking him in the jaw._

_"Lead the way... Senpai."_

_"I told you not to call me Senpai!"_

_Jet-black eyes gleamed, mild crinkles surrounding them giving the impression of something akin to amusement at her reaction. He (of the infamous stonewalled countenance) had to be a closet sadist. She smiled at his teasing. Subtlety was an art to be appreciated and knowing they shared similarities along that line made it easier to relate to him. He'd never be as free-spirited as Kisuke but... she liked having a variety of friends. _

_They walked._

* * *

"No. He can only dream of leaving."

He despised this traitor. Throwing aside all that Soul Society stood for, abandoning duty and honour and hi- Helping his detestable enemy and extending her protection over that pathetic upstart, the insult (intended or not) was more than he could tolerate. He didn't want to think about the other issues. But just seeing the gentle, caring manner in which she caught and handled her precious burden...

They had to die.

Her slim frame stiffened, head turning away from Ukitake Juushiro so he could see that familiar side profile. Grim resolution was accompanied by a narrowing of seductively fringed eyes, followed by scathing scorn.

"Hn! Your speech has become insolent, Byakuya-**bo**."

A haunting smile was tossed his way and brought back bittersweet memories, punctuated with quiet confidence that taunted.

"When did you win against me in Onigoto?"

He would not be swayed by the past. Lack of compromise was his frigid answer.

"... Should we try again?"

Another shared experience... their duel was underway once more.

* * *

_Freedom to travel anywhere, while unescorted by a retinue of bodyguards and subordinates was priceless. Sniffing in the enticing aroma of freshly cooked buckwheat noodles as they passed a restaurant; the off-duty commander could never resist exploring everything around her._

_Watching his companion happily buy a beggar boy a rainbow-coloured paper windmill from a street vendor, pale lips twitched as he fought the urge to smile. Further on, she stopped to peer into a shop window. Kuchiki Byakuya had never met such a curious and nosy person in his life... with the exception of the captain of the twelfth division. Amazing, that one who bore such heavy responsibility could still be so carefree and childlike at times._

_Seeing that she hadn't lost interest after more than ten seconds, he ventured over to take a look. She was muttering to herself._

_"When was Soi Fong's birthday again? Wonderful, I can remember everything else but social events-"_

_Her attention was fixed on two glass shelves arrayed with earrings. Gazing disinterestedly at the sparkling trinkets, a pair of hairpins caught his eye on the shelf below._

_The jewels were oval in shape with tapered tips, a rich burnished hue that shone as if illuminated from within, as rays of sunlight fell across them. Separated from each other by a thin filigree of rose gold, the seven topaz pieces were arranged like flower petals encircling a central pearl. Opaquely snowy by comparison to the gems, with a mildly smoky hue depending on the angle one perceived it from... these elegant accessories were perfect. _

_The Kuchiki heir wasted no time in paying the stated price; collecting the velvet case they were kept in, he brusquely handed it to his friend. Opening the small rectangular box, her smooth brow wrinkled. _

_"Isn't this somewhat extravagant? I haven't even decided yet-"_

_"I'm tired. Take it or leave it."_

_Something felt... absurd. This bauble seemed too personal even as a frivolous gift. Standing there and staring at the 'prize' for a moment, she was uncertain of how to respond as he strode off. Catching up with the man, his usual calm and aloof attitude made her reprimand herself for being ungrateful. He was probably having a rare attack of niceness before retreating back into distant indecipherability._

* * *

In a flash, the target was behind him. Keeping track with his eyes, Senbonzakura was free and slashing across her location.

She was not there. It became clear in an instant, the knowledge ramming home to give him a clear view of the surroundings in one sweep. Her fleetness still had the ability to shock.

_Behind Ukitake_! Bringing the rest of his senses into play, Byakuya deduced he had to heighten his awareness and expand his field of perception. Time to end this game.

0o-------------o0

List of Definitions by Alphabetical order

**Gaten**: Piercing Point

**Houten**: Collapsing Point

I can only deduce that Gaten and Houten probably refer to nerve points (which ki i.e. universal energy flows through) situated in the region of the gut. Wouldn't mind if someone who knows more about this could enlighten me further…

**Gomoku**: Board game derived from ancient China involving black and white stones on a 19x19 square board. The stones are placed on the intersections of the board, with Black going first. The winner is the first player to get an unbroken row of five stones in any direction, either straight or diagonally. Hence, one has to stop the other (while attempting to achieve the same) from getting four stones in a row, or a cross of 3 x 3, since creation of either patterns means it's impossible to effectively block.

It's not certain if Shyunpo does have a basis in Gomoku and/or Shogi (japanese chess), but from the manner in which Yoruichi countered Soi Fong's subordinates so easily in chapter 154, I'm going with Gomoku for now.

**Kaiken**: Dirk. A short blade carried by female ninjas.

**O-kayu**: From the evening of the sixth day of the New Year, a special rice soup of o-kayu is prepared, using the seven herbs of spring. Kayu is made by boiling cooked rice in water until it breaks down and forms a porridge-like texture, to which the seven herbs are added. Consuming this mixture is thought to bring health, good spirits and extended longevity for the coming year. The actual composition of the seven herbs varies from region to region, but a typical group includes nazuna, hakobe, suzuna, seri, hotokenoza, hahakogusa, and suzushiro (otherwise known as shepherd's purse, chickweed, turnip, water dropwort, henbit, cudweed and radish root). The herbs are prepared in a ritualistic manner, chopped 28 times on the evening of the sixth, then 21 more times on the morning of the seventh, before being placed in the soup.

Here, Yoruichi treats her grandfather's birthday as the seventh day, since it's a deviation (i.e. not New Year's) that she uses to suit her needs.

**Rukongai**: A place whereall other spirits dwell in Soul Society. Divided into North, South, East, West, the 1st district being the one with the best order (and presumably wealth, living conditions, etc.) and the worst being the 78th district, where Renji and Rukia came from.

**Seishu**: Rice wine

**Senka**: A move Byakuya used on Ichigo. It is a specialized shyunpo technique, whereby he revolves around and severs the opponent's hakusui (i.e. link between soul of the spirit and the actual spirit itself). In human terms, it is similar to the soul being separated from body.

**Tantō**: It is a smaller version of the katana, with a blade length of about 15 - 30 cm. The Tantō differs from the others as it was designed primarily as a stabbing instrument, but the edge can be used to slash as well. They were generally very thin and therefore would cut soft targets extremely well. It is a secondary weapon always carried with a samurai, and interchangeable with the wakizashi (an example of the w-sword is the soul slayer Gin uses).

Note: If Yoruichi carries a weapon, it's not obvious so I looked at the smaller ones that can be concealed.


	5. The irony of Caring

Disclaimer: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

_Followed by words in this font-- Past_

Followed by words mainly in this font-- Present.

**Previously:**

Her fleetness still had the ability to shock.

_Behind Ukitake! _Bringing the rest of his senses into play, Byakuya deduced he had to heighten his awareness and expand his field of perception. Time to end this game.

0o--------------o0

**The irony of Caring**

_"You seem a lot busier than normal lately."_

_"I can't help it. Soi Fong and Kuukaku have been getting into more scrapes than usual. You try obeying Yama-ji, reducing mischief and bending the rules at the same time. It's worse than trying to master Shyunkou."_

_Studying his companion who was watching the clouds with a merry expression, the other man pulled himself into a sitting position. Picking up the shakuhachi flute and tucking it into his white nagoya obi, his next words were carefully neutral._

_"Kaien is wondering if you've vanished off the face of Seirei-tei. He's been asking me where you are, in case you've forgotten your promise to help improve his shyunpo. What have you been doing?"_

_Pupils like mellow candlelight bore into him with their unblinking focus._

_"Aren't you his unofficial mentor? Keeping tabs on me? If it eases your mind, I was aiding a younger officer. He's not an uptight bore after all, but rather interesting."_

_"Why? You didn't promise that one anything."_

_All Kisuke received in response was a nonchalant shrug. He decided to get to the point._

"_Be kind, Yoruichi. Differences in decades don't mean much in Soul Society, but the gap in life experience between you two is obvious. Be careful. For now you grasp the hilt; a single mistake and you'll be looking at the narrow end of uncompromising sharpness." _

_"What bit you in the ass today? Suddenly you're behaving like a fussy wet-nurse."_

_"You must be really significant to him, because he still keeps everyone else at a formidable distance. If you think about it, you'll know what I mean. He's not the type you normally play with, especially not with his character. And you can't defend yourself if you're not aware. Still, that's up to you. _

_Anyway, remember that time you offered your help? I may need it sooner than expected, since I couldn't destroy..." _

_Now she was worried, seeing the tense posture of his body. _

_"I'm listening, Kisuke. Tell me so we can plan-"_

* * *

Still in mid-air and watching the back of that self-proclaimed foe, a slight smile appeared as she sailed down gracefully onto the far end of the bridge. Glazed wood creaked beneath her landing foot.

Scarcely had the other slipper touched the floor when he was there, right next to the valuable burden she carried. The killing intent was all too palpable, suffusing the space around the trio. His attack was sealed with primeval ruthlessness in irate darkness.

"Did you presume to escape me… with that level of shyunpo?"

Eyes large with apprehension, Yoruichi realised he was as serious as that first time. A split second was all she had for everything to sink in.

_Why? Do you hate me so much? You shouldn't have initiated kindness in the first place, then I could have considered killing you..._

* * *

_The celebration had been uneventful. Full of elaborate pomp and splendor, guests of distinguished rank mingled beneath the hallowed arches of illustrious tradition. Their entire estate had been decked out magnificently, which the Tenshi Heisouban resented. Frivolous artifice was stifling, just like the ceremonial tenuousness that were necessary parts of this life._

_Bound by the rules she had been brought up to respect and obey, nevertheless Yoruichi chafed at the rigidity of infinite obligations. Behaving as politely as possible, making meaningless small talk and eventually serving the o-kayu while wishing her grandfather continued longevity, happiness and good health, she finally escaped into welcome isolation._

_Long slopes of verdant green were a sight for tired eyes, as she descended a long, broad flight of stone steps. From then on, irregular slabs of rock in different shapes and sizes were skillfully combined and laid out between pools of sand. These monolithic protrusions blended in with sandy paleness that mimicked the meandering gracefulness of a river's course. The mind was soothed; the heart was calm. The gardens of the Shihouin clan were renowned in Seirei-tei for best creating and exemplifying hijô, things without desire._

_By entering this oasis of reverence for Nature, she was disrupting the balance as ujô, things having desire. Yet balance is always necessary in life…Wandering past a circle of moderately tall trees, reaching out to rub spiny stiffness between dry fingers. They were a herald of peace, symbolizing the unshakeable strength and unmatched legacy of her clan. Small, dainty steps took her past them towards her favourite flowers._

_Ah, the trees that bear fragrant plum blossoms. Unfortunately, spring had just ended and there were barely any flowering ones left. Only a few remained in lush glory and were starting to wither._

_She gathered a handful of them and continued on._

_Tugging at the stiff brocade of her garments, with some rearrangement, the weary female could sit comfortably on the short grass. There was a method to keeping cool, such as thinking of green grass wet with dew. Silky scarlet softness was heaped on her lap. Gazing at the azure clarity of a lake beautified with small clusters of snowy water lilies, she could finally relax. Dwarf-peach trees, diminutive mountains and moonstone-hued pebbles guarded the smooth edges. Pulling out the stick ornament of ochre tortoiseshell, which was laced with seed pearls at one end surrounding a gold sphere, it was a relief to feel the strain of tightly bound hair being released. The hairpiece was next to go. Hand reaching up to brush topaz flowers, fingers had just closed over a hairpin when she sensed an intruder._

_Turning her head, she saw the tall, regally masculine entity walking quietly towards her. Clad in flowing robes of patterned ultramarine blue splashed with intricate silver and edged in rusty black, the usual white Kenseikaan parting and binding raven hair that fell below the shoulderblades, an umbrella was held in his right hand. He looked every inch the dignified, inscrutable aristocrat. Dawning appreciation and amazement was written all over her face._

_"When did you arrive?"_

"_I had some urgent paperwork to finish first, so I was late."_

_Looking down at artistically defined features framed by unbound looseness, noting the subtle gleam of his gifts among richly purple locks, Byakuya was pleased, and trying to contain the unkind temptation to laugh. The mischievous tomboy looked like a trapped mouse, albeit less tomboyish and more... beautiful? Perhaps it was voluminous folds of the gold and cream karaginu mo combined with multiple underlying layers of fine cloth engulfing her figure, for she seemed frail and tinier. Resisting the protective absurdity to reach out and tuck a stray tuft of gossamer-lightness behind her ear, he looked towards the row of cherry-blossom trees at the other end of the lake._

_"Did you know, when shorter people hold an umbrella, taller people have a higher chance of hurting their heads?"_

_As expected, she took the bait. Struggling to her feet and trying not to mess up her formal attire, the defiant set of her chin was not as rebellious as the flash of 'are-you-serious' in those fearless eyes. This man had a way of getting beneath her skin. Thankfully she resisted the childish instinct to stick out her tongue._

_"I'll show you it's not true."_

_Removing the umbrella from his grasp, she moved next to him and turning around, hoisted it up such that her hands were next to her cheek while holding the lower third of the bamboo shaft. A mild pitter-patter of raindrops told them it had started to drizzle._

_Strong arms slipped around her waist, pulling her backwards. Taken by surprise and mild uneasiness, Yoruichi tilted her chin skywards, head against his chest until she was looking into his expressionless face. His eyes weren't always so bleak. In fact, they now reminded her of moonlight glancing off steel that was framed by dunes of velvet... intriguingly appealing?_

_"Kuchiki, what is the-"_

_"The umbrella isn't that big. It's wonderfully peaceful out here."_

_That made sense. He was trying to ensure they both didn't get wet and was utilizing the limited space. She made a mental note to have a moon-viewing pavilion built nearby in future, and less chance of rain affecting anyone's enjoyment of scenery._

_Inhaling the faint scent of non-fragrance soap mixed with incense, the top of her head brushed the base of his chin. Interlacing his fingers to rest about the waistline of her kimono, savoring the feel of her relaxed body in his embrace, he was grateful to Fate for the convenient excuse. If only it would continue raining..._

_The warmth of his body was gratifying. Was it right to like this? Yoruichi wasn't sure. He didn't seem disturbed though, so it was probably nothing to worry over. While relishing the tranquil beauty of the moment, Kisuke's words came back to haunt her._

_If anyone had found them before they returned to solid shelter, it would be easy to mistake and provide gossip that would scandalize the noble houses of Kuchiki and Shihouin._

* * *

Blood spurted from the deep wound, all the way from one shoulder through to her back, severing an arm in the process.

He watched the woman freeze, then begin to fall backwards from the blow. There was nothing to feel. Not even when a groan of agony was heard. His sword arm was sturdy and poised where it had stopped in mid-air.

Reddish liquid began evaporating into vapor, becoming denser with each passing second. The sight of this dying enemy brought an isolated memory to the fore, when his reaction had been so different.

* * *

_"S-stop! It's dangero-"_

_Ignoring the warning from the fourth squad member, a very tired Shyunshin Yoruichi lived up to her name by reaching the aforementioned zone much faster than anyone else. She had just completed a difficult mission, but had to come when she realised who was involved in this. Soi Fong had been sent on a spying mission for a few days and couldn't assist her. Backup was coming, however-_

_Two down, three to go. Taking in the sight of bodies littered about the wide expanse of earth, less than a third of the people present were still upright. The only two still relatively unscathed were the higher ranking officers of the team present. Rapidly analysing and coming to a solution, it was obvious that the wounds inflicted on the towering Hollows were numerous but too shallow. Looming above them, large shadow blocking out the sun, the blank gaze of these grotesque entities was chilling. It didn't help that one of her best friends was coughing badly._

_"Ukitake, Kuchiki, rescue those who are alive and retreat. I'll distract and keep them here until the others arrive."_

_The two shinigami and their followers did not move as commanded, but turned to stare at her. Why were they wasting time? Snappy irritation told them she was low on patience, and the burden of her various ranking responsibilities outweighed them._

_"That's an order!"_

_Immediately obeying, the injured were being helped to safety, leaving one small figure and three gigantic monsters standing forty feet apart in a field of trampled wildflowers._

_Yellow met red and stayed. The prognosis was not good. Even her colleagues had not been able to create wounds deep enough to truly affect the creatures. It was a relief that there were no more possible casualties around, although there would definitely be more when the others arrived. These creatures could not be allowed to reach the populated areas. The method had not been perfected but she didn't have a choice. Wondering why five Menos Grande would appear in their world together could be considered later, if she lived that long._

_One arm extended to the side and parallel to the ground, a visible aura surrounded the woman whose head was bowed. Yellow flared into dull grey, incinerating the cloth on her back and shoulders. Looking up, a flash of warm silver blanketed the vicinity within the radius of a hundred feet. Visibility was obscured through enormous clouds of dust._

_0o-----------------------------o0_

_What the- Silver hair flying as he whirled around, Ukitake Juushiro was taken aback by the volcanic eruption of spiritual power he could detect from their recently vacated battlefield._

_"Wait!"_

"_A medical team should be arriving shortly."_

_Watching his most disobedient officer rapidly vanish into the distance like a released arrow, the captain of the thirteenth division could not help but worry. At this rate, they were going to get themselves killed; yet he couldn't abandon the wounded..._

_0o-------------------------------o0_

_Seeing her enemy create a familiar red ball of destruction with its breath, she knew this hit had to really count before it could finish that blow. She couldn't keep it up for long before suffering from the strain of using Shyunkou at this stage... fatally._

_Finally topping the rise of the hill, dark eyes took in the scene before them in horrified amazement. His legs refused to budge any further and it was terrible trying to stay upright, without turning to flee or collapsing to the ground. His body was bathed in cold sweat, as a scarlet vertigo of detected bloodlust overrode every nerve._

_Such displayed murderous cruelty was at the very least, on par with Zaraki Kenpachi. The last foul beast (whose hems were smouldering) was forming a Cero, which meant it felt severely threatened. There was no grass left. Scorched earth had been razed lower by several feet and covered a vast circumference. The other two Menos Grande had left or been destroyed. His senpai's spiritual energy however, was... oppressively nightmarish. Crackling energy spiraled around her, swiveling to condense around her right fist. Was that the cause of this change in landscape... and difficulty in breathing? It was hard to believe the easy-going mischief-maker and this scorching intensity of purposeful decimation were one and the same person. One moment blazing purple was positioned beneath the shadow of the Menos Grande, the next moment it was at least sixty feet further back. She had to be combining shyunpo with this devastating technique, whatever it was. Then that sphere of immolation was tearing across the ground._

_Launching herself into the air as a mountain of dirt exploded beneath her from the take-off, Yoruichi saw the scarlet ball vanish. Only a split second before- Dull whiteness loomed before her as she smashed a deadly fist into her intended target, right between the eyes._

_A shrill wail was heard all across Rukongai, leaving its residents cowering in fear at the eerie, discordant sound._

_Chunks of extremely dense clay broke off, falling to decorate the ground along with murky puddles. Forcefully yanking her hand out, she was soaring backwards to put distance between herself and the foe. The bright light of Negation came down to protect the Hollow and bar her from inflicting further damage. Crimson rivulets ran down her arm to mingle with that disgusting liquid sticking to her skin and clothes._

_Landing forcefully enough to skid backwards and leave a deep trail showing resistance, a weary general watched the ailing Menos Grande staggeringly depart, wrenching the sky back together like closing curtains of a theatre play. She had succeeded in dealing a strong enough deterrence that should be almost fatal, before the gigantic Hollow could deliver that vaporizing attack._

_A jolt of agony exploded somewhere within her chest, distracting her from the dull pain coating her hand._

_Falling to one knee, the bleeding limb was pressed against her side. It was hard to breathe. Coughing out a copious amount of incarnadine fluid, beads of sweat dotted her forehead as darkness encroached on the fringes of consciousness._

_"Yoruichi!"_

_The last thing experienced was velvety reception... then nothing._

List of definitions in alphabetical order

**Cero**: Ball of energy formed by a Menos Grande, which atomizes anything it hits into nothing.

**Karaginu mo**: In the Heian period, _Karaginu_ means "Chinese overcoat" and _mo_, "skirt." Underneath, the multiple layers are called _uchigi_ (robes) and the ensemble is alternately called _itsutsiginu_ (five gowns). Women still wore _hakama_underneath as well. That's a lot of cloth. Phew. I'm not sure what fashion period Soul Society is set in, since it seems to be a mish-mash of settings.

**Kenseikaan**: Head-dress worn by the nobility.

**Menos Grande**: Super-powerful Hollow, comprised of hundreds of smaller hollows fusing together.

**Nagoya obi**: A belt made up of tasseled cords.

**Shakuhachi flute**: Favourite woodwind instrument in Japan. Made from the bottom of a bamboo tree, with nodes cut at intervals. Four fingerholes in front and one thumbhole at the back, the front being cut at an angle to allow for complex variation of sounds when playing. The instrument takes its name from its standard length of one foot (_shaku_) and eight (_hachi_) parts of a foot (called _sun_), approximately 54cm.

**Shyunkou**: Flash Cry. A very high level skill that only Yoruichi has been able to attain (not fully control) at its completed stage.

**Shyunshin Yoruichi**: Goddess of Flash(or Instant) Step

**Tenshi Heisouban**: Title denoting rank of nobility. Means 'Princess of the house of sacred armourers'.

**Yama-ji**: Affectionate and respectfully informal way of addressing Yamamoto Genryuusai (captain of the 1st division). It's not certain about the ties between Yoruichi and him, but I'm thinking…child-and-father sort of dynamics, like Shunsui and him.


	6. The beginning of an end

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

To make the scenes clearer:

_Followed by words in this font---Past._

Followed by words mainly in this font-- Present.

**Previously:**

_Falling to one knee, the bleeding limb was pressed against her side. It was hard to breathe. Coughing out a copious amount of incarnadine fluid, beads of sweat dotted her forehead as darkness encroached on the fringes of consciousness._

_"Yoruichi!"_

_The last thing experienced was velvety reception... then nothing. _

0o---------------------------o0

**The beginning of an end**

Crimson mist condensed into a bolt of white cloth that had been sliced into two. His outstretched arm felt momentarily heavier. Realising what had happened, his attention turned towards the husky whisper that stung his pride.

"Did you presume to catch me… with such shyunpo?"

Even before he could catch a glimpse of the deity that had appeared on his forearm, she was no longer there.

However, the easy affection in her voice lingered in his mind. Devoid of mockery, that only increased the soreness of his defeat. Warmth from her fingers seemed to have burnt through cloth to remain branded on cool skin.

He would have preferred being physically wounded. Those at least, would heal and be forgotten.

No, he couldn't fool himself with his own lies...

* * *

_"Has she recovered yet?"_

_Stopping in his tracks, all Urahara Kisuke would say was, "Yes." Then he was making light banter and cracking a silly joke, distracting Kyouraku Shunsui from the subject. _

_Later, in the privacy of his office, he could not help but fret over the issue. What had possessed her to even attempt something so potentially suicidal? What a mother hen she could be. Fortunately, only moderate internal injuries had been suffered, instead of being carbonated by channeling such unstable energy. That skill was not yet safe for her to employ, with that magnitude of power. Seeing Yoruichi return to Seirei-tei in the arms of that haughty man had been annoying enough, but the sight of her apparently lifeless body... even his vice-captain had kept out of his way for the rest of the day. _

_The day after that incident, he had gone to visit her. His best friend had not yet regained lucidity. He did not go to see her again until she was awake. Kisuke couldn't understand the reason behind his peevishness, but he could identify the cause. It had to do with a certain man. That individual (when he had gone the first time) had been there and from what he had seen... thankfully he could be cat-quiet when required. _

_Watching through a minuscule space between exquisitely patterned fusuma panels, he saw long fingers similar to an artisan's clasping a bandaged hand. Similarly graceful fingers of the other hand touched a wan cheek, even as a faint smile hovered about pale lips of the unconscious invalid. Green chrysanthemums bloomed in a porcelain vase on the dressing table._

_Those rare and expensive flowers were grown only in one garden in Soul Society. __**Damn**__ Kuchiki Byakuya. Kisuke hated the choice he would force his friend to eventually make, and he didn't want to cost her something as simple as happiness... the type she didn't yet realise._

* * *

"Three days."

While turning around, he finally looked up to see his prey standing atop the roof of another adjacent building. There was surety in the way she phrased it, along with an air that would brook no insubordination from anyone. Being an outstanding commander meant there were some things you never forgot.

"In three days, I'll make him stronger than you."

It was the first promise she had made to him, yet sounded more like a declaration of war. The cold detachment in her voice told him she was peeved by his actions, and was endeavouring not to show fury or outrage. The demon cat had made her point though; she was still as frighteningly powerful as before, and had no qualms about rubbing it in. It wouldn't take much effort for her to slay him, which also included killing him before he could use bankai.

"Do as you please but in the meantime, the fight between you two is postponed."

Absence of her usual easygoing manner was a deadly warning to the motionless man below. _If you try and thwart me, I won't hesitate to terminate your life._

"If you wish to pursue us, go ahead!"

The rooftop was now empty, patches of fluffy cloud against a darkening sky the only sight flanking worn tiles. It was as if she had never been there, save for fading echoes of defiance. Reprimanding him, reminding him...

"Shyunshin Yoruichi can't be caught by the likes of you."

* * *

_"That's ridiculous!"_

_Rebuking while blocking a narrow tip singlehandedly by positioning the tanto behind her left shoulder, she spun around and nearly impaled his wrist with a deft stroke from her other weapon. Leaping backwards, he released a blast spell from one hand. A wide circular expanse of barren earth was upended with the ferocious force of fiery red energy._

_"Soukatsui without incantation. Not bad, Byakuya."_

_Whirling around to knock away the slim blade of her kaiken, he felt the larger blade slice into his left sleeve and graze the skin of his forearm. It went no further as he shifted to the right, bringing his soul slayer across in a diagonal downward arc. _

_"As I was saying: to fight a foe alone and be defeated without dying, is not dishonourable." _

_Swooshing whistle of wind past her right ear induced a satisfied grin from her. That was close. Trying to lecture and fight at the same time was something she and Kisuke both loved to do, to see which one of them would be unable to cope first so the other could move in for the kill._

"_Foolish ego makes absurd rules. If you've done your best but still lost, surviving does not mean you're trash."_

_Crossing both her blades comfortably countered the clanging impact of steel that had a much longer reach. They were both pushing against each other, faces half an arms-length apart. She leant closer while maintaining a stable center of balance, poised to move anytime._

_"It just means you get another chance to improve and defeat your opponent the next time around. That is more productive than dying in a blaze of stupidity, all for the sake of so-called honour."_

_Flame-shaped eyes widened, black irises expanding to signify- Yoruichi leapt backwards, as broken metal clattered to the ground. Retreating further, more distance was put between them while she worked out her next move. Anger for pouring vinegar on his beliefs, eh? Now she would need to replace her little tools again. _

_He was standing there, placidly handsome countenance in stark contrast to eyes that gleamed as if a dash of mercury had been added to dark pools. They had changed roles once more, his mantle of maturity making up for the difference in their years and sometimes making him seem the more senior of the two. A ray of sunlight glinted off the tapered end of that sword to reach her eyes._

_"Then you and I will just have to disagree, Yoruichi. I have no need for subordinates who are not willing to stake their lives to win. Besides, with kidou such as the one you used to defeat the Menos Grande a month ago, why master that if you're not trying to wipe out your opponents completely and spare them the disgrace of retreat?"_

_If Kisuke didn't exist, he would have been right. That last erroneous statement was not a question. He did not understand, or perhaps he did, but they had different beliefs on the definition of honour, winning... and the motive for improving oneself. There was so much she could say, but talk was not always the best of instructors. Besides, she had to obliterate the hint of detected interest in that method._

_There was a peculiar expression on her face, and Byakuya had the feeling he'd struck a nerve somewhere with his words._

_"What I learn is for the sake of protecting those I value, but that is none of your business. Whether you comprehend my viewpoint... doesn't matter either. No one else can master the kidou I used that day. Why? Because there are certain criteria to attain, such as being able to easily cast and block this-"_

_One hand was raised in his direction, two fingers pointing towards him._

_"Blast spell seventy-one-"_

_A kite-sized sphere of crackling red lightning had coagulated above her head. The shrill keening of gathering energy was almost hypnotizing, as it resembled an unstable whirlpool that was becoming denser by the second. Infinite thin lines crisscrossing appeared in the dirt, gritty particles ripped from the earth as the loss of soil surrounded his position. He could see the movement of her lips as the spell was named but the sound was drowned out. No incantation? Rapid escalation in spiritual pressure from her rendered him unable to move. He had to bring out his full potential to defend. Senbonzakura was released._

_"Without being injured-"_

_There was a deafening explosion as the unfurling cascade of annihilation struck their target. _

_The effect of using such a high level hadou made a certain man shake his head, as he approached the training grounds in the wilderness surrounding West Rukongai. Yoruichi had been aggravated over something. That was rare. Whoever was on the receiving end of her wrath was one unlucky soul... if he was still alive. _

_Dense smoke began to clear, revealing an unmoving figure and another who was kneeling a good distance away. Between them was what was left of the training grounds... an extensive crater that appeared to have been gouged out by monstrous claws._

_"Yoruichi, that was a bit harsh."_

_"Kisuke, there was a point to illustrate about survival and power."_

_"At least you aimed seven paces in front of him."_

"_That was the only way he could block without perishing."_

_She hadn't expected to feel this guilty, or- Walking along the deep furrow and over to the weary youngster, she knelt down and tipped up his chin with two fingers. Speaking so that only he could hear, she murmured, "Your death would be wasted. Being able to survive, so you can train to defeat me... doesn't that make more sense? After all, if I ever became a monster that you had to destroy, you would then be protecting those you treasure."_

_Was that... concern on her face? He was staring, even as a trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth to drip onto parched earth. As he coughed, slender fingers steadied his chin and wiped unsightly crimson off his skin. Her ability to fiddle with black-and-white scenarios and rules was mind-boggling. The gentle pressure of soft fingertips didn't help either. She glanced upwards momentarily and was transfixed by the play of sunlight over attractively mesmerising features. Bloodstained digits remained still. Both faces were only one hand-span apart... _

_Deliberately loud clearing of the throat from the third person present made her jump up. _

"_Just kidding! Don't look so serious, Kuchiki-san! You'll come up with your own special techniques someday!"_

_For a moment, he had wanted to- Watching the two shinigami stroll off while trading jokes, Byakuya had an epiphany. He could have dismissed those odd words, except for her tone. There was such a world of sadness in it... as if she had first-hand experience. _

_Besides, the humiliation of losing so badly only ensured her intentions had backfired. Her later betrayal would consolidate the rejection of most of her ideals involving flexibility. This was just one of many little 'things' that would shape the man he became later... the one who would send Rukia to the Soukyoku at all costs._

* * *

Standing there, he stared up at the peak where aged ceramic met steeply, like seismic plates that had been frozen in time. They were gone. He could pursue them but judging by her speed, all those years had barely dented lethal prowess.

Even then, what had transpired within the last five minutes finally sank in. That elite warrior had returned to the very heart of their society. The prodigal who had deserted her rank, conspired with an infamous outlaw and trampled on his dignity... spurning all he had offered ages ago, without even deigning to give a reason or reply.

If that Kurosaki Ichigo was an annoyance to make the blood boil, the sight of her was infuriating enough for his brain to start shutting down while raw, vengeful instinct crudely demanded to take over. The ancient wound still rankled. Haunting familiarity in that duel was bringing back a history he did not want to go over. _Do you still remember-_ Subconsciously directing his thoughts towards her broke the last straw in frazzled calm. At this moment, he needed absolute solitude to recover.

Realizing that Ukitake Juushiro was practically gawking at him and that his behaviour might look unusual, all he uttered was a curt, "The scum… he got away…"

Then the Kuchiki clan leader spun around sharply and stalked off.

"Hey! Byakuya! What about the others? Aren't they the reason why you came in the first place?"

His coldly dismissive reply was disdainful enough to make the thirteenth-division captain scratch his head in puzzled resignation, before tending to the intruder and Hanatarou.

"He always does as he pleases. Never seen him so, er, reactive, though… What's the hurry, since there's no way he'd catch up to those two?"

If a departing sixth division captain could read minds, he would know that although the distance between them was increasing, the object of his musing was cursing their encounter and scolding herself for remembering sentimental idiocy.

* * *

_It had been fun. Unfortunately, there was nothing more she could impart to Kuchiki Byakuya. His range and precision of peripheral perception along with shyunpo had advanced tremendously, as expected of a prodigy. It was not good to influence someone too much, or they could not develop their own specialities. He would continue ascending to loftier heights even without her help… training to attain bankai could be thoroughly completed. Kisuke needed her support. Furthermore, his warning had struck too deep to be ignored. Getting her priorities in order had been necessary. She could have sworn though, that the strange idea of Byakuya making her smile with his concern was more than just a dream. All she knew was that he'd left some unusually pretty blossoms as a token of visiting, when she'd been unaware after the entire Menos Grande episode. _

_Enough of her silliness. Child's play had to be discarded, for she was facing a grave possibility that chilled her to the core. Would Soul Society still be her home after this? Hence, she would enjoy the game to the last second. Strange, how one could get attached to triviality…_

_Ducking beneath the sweep of his arm as he tried to mark her, she sprang up and backwards, both hands closing around his right forearm. Using that as leverage to swing herself around, both knees collided with the small of his back. The overall momentum knocked her opponent over, toppling him completely. Kneeling on his back, she absently noted how soft his hair looked. The sudden urge to touch came and went without her questioning its cause. Oh well, she was terrible with goodbyes and he would doubtless be relieved to know her pestering had ended._

"_You'll definitely be one of the greatest captains in histo-"_

_The earth seemed to tilt disturbingly as her attempt to get up was disrupted. Feeling an unyielding arm clamp across her calves as she released her grip, Yoruichi nearly rolled off and with a violent motion from him, she found herself flat on her front, nose nearly nudging the dirt. _

_"Hey, the sessions are over! I command you to let me up-" _

_Breaking off angrily, she turned her neck, nearly spraining it to look at him. There was something unnerving about his usual lack of expression, but those eyes… The last thing she expected was to lose the red ribbon around her throat. _

_Had he lost his mind? What was with this weird behaviour? That did it; she was going to have to hurt him- His body was reassuringly pliant against hers. He smelled like an intriguing combination of grass, earth and steel. She didn't like the path her thoughts were taking. What if Kisuke was right-_

_"Kuchiki-sa-"_

_Startling pressure of his lips on her throat numbed her with shock. That moment of paralysis was all it took for him to swiftly flip her over, so that they were face to face. What she saw frightened her. There was such…gentleness in his features._

List of definitions in alphabetical order

**Bankai:** The 2nd level of release for a Soul Slayer, whereby the soul of the sword is fully bent to the owner's will and can be completely utilized (i.e. brought out of the subconscious) in the conscious world, making one 5-10 times more powerful than in shikai mode.

**Fusuma**: Sliding door separating two rooms in a house.

**Hadou:** Attacking spells, under the kidou category.

**Kidou**: One of the four classes of shinigami fighting arts, namely spells.

**Soukatsui**: Blast spell 33 (mid-level demon arts) that spits out blue fireballs.

**Soukyoku**: Executes the ultimate penalty by destroying the convict's body, in the form of a fiery bird whose beak has the piercing force equivalent to a million Soul Slayers.


	7. Breaking the rules

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are in this font, as they are being remembered).

When I use the word 'man', I'm using it in the context of gender and not (im) mortality.

I may be following the manga but I'll be looking at aspects that one may not necessarily see. That includes my views on the fights. Too much 'Art of War' and psychology interests to add to the mix.

To make the scenes clearer:

* * *

_Followed by words in this font ------Past_

* * *

Followed by words mainly in this font -----Present.

* * *

**Previously:**

_Had he lost his mind? What was with this weird behavior? That did it; she was going to have to hurt him- His body was reassuringly pliant against hers. He smelled like an intriguing combination of grass, earth and steel. She didn't like the path her thoughts were taking. What if Kisuke was right-_

"_Kuchiki-sa-"_

_Startling pressure of his lips on her throat numbed her with shock. That moment of paralysis was all it took for him to swiftly flip her over, so that they were face to face. What she saw frightened her. There was such…gentleness in his features._

0o-------------o0

**Breaking the rules**

This was dangerous. She was defying normality while obeying Kisuke. Who was the one who'd said contradictions could not be reconciled?

Yoruichi stood at the crumbling peak, watching Kurosaki-kun combat the mysterious entity that was the soul of his zanpaku-tou. Seeing him stumble, lose a false sword and retreat to find another, before charging forward to fight bravely once more…. Her helplessness burned, even as admiration slowly grew.

Glimpsing such defiant courage was too similar to that laidback nutcase, separated from her in another world. How many times had he fallen, experienced the brief scalding bitterness of failure before re-mustering resolve that strengthened with each try? The determination- She had to force herself not to wince as the teenager was sent flying backwards into a pile of rocks, narrowed eyes not leaving the scene of fierce battle. It was not her place to interfere.

_To watch one fight without looking away, that is another aspect of utmost honor a warrior can pay to another. You and I both know it, which is another reason why you're a respected leader. Sometimes, it is all we can do. No matter how much it hurts._

It hurt, all right. Unlike Urahara Kisuke, she'd never quite mastered the art of not caring when necessary, despite knowing that compassion could be more detrimental than indifference (depending on the situation). For Kurosaki Ichigo however, it was his emotions that fuelled his strength. She would aid him in refining and channeling that power, as it was obvious he had a unique gift of inner balance... The amazing combination of what was best about Kisuke and herself. In the meantime, all she could do was to maintain an unaffected front, as she'd done for so many years.

A wide grin spread across proud, youthful exuberance as Zangetsu was forced back. With each second of perseverance, Ichigo was winning although he didn't know it yet. His influence was like a fever you couldn't avoid, and it was this indiscriminating passion that would save more than just a prisoner on death row.

_Byakuya, you and your 'adherence to the law and honor, till death do us part' still pisses me off, you know that? Strangely, that's one of the things I've always valued about you. From what I can see, I'm guessing that you've painted yourself into a corner, so I've to extricate and rap you on the knuckles in an indirect fashion this time. _

Willing Kisuke's hope to win, even as Abarai Renji crashed through the cavernous ceiling.

Hearing the latest update and tasting the ashes of impossibility in her mouth, it was so acrid…

"You suggested this method, so don't you be the first to give up. All I have to do is achieve it by the end of today!"

Guiltily crucified by the blaze of his conviction, she continued observing him voraciously overcome each hardship and renew her flagging faith.

_Why should I doubt one who was born to achieve Bankai? Just like you, Kisuke… Except the student may actually surpass his master!_

Left with the role of a silent observer, she had too much time to think, even after pondering the plans of Kisuke regarding Ichigo. As usual, she could not avoid drifting back to memories of happier times and wondering if he too, was…

Back at the headquarters of the sixth division, a broken teapot lay in scattered ceramic fragments on wet wood. The sole occupant in his private office was staring at disintegrating tealeaves, wishing he could crush certain unforgettable experiences as easily as the limp remnants.

* * *

_This valued companion was so graceful that he could scarcely note her weight on his arm, as she evaded his movements. It felt like some age-old ritual between Light and Shadow whereby one party would act and the other would respond, before both interchanged roles repeatedly in their dance. The brutal force of that kick knocked him over and then he heard the subtle nuance of finality in her tone. The ending implications were unthinkable and... It inspired him to act._

_Now she lay beneath him, faint amber eyes wide with confused apprehension. Deceptively frangible features displayed how stunned she was, but those lips... He couldn't stop instinct this time. _

_Molding his mouth over hers as her lips parted to inhale and/or speak, he felt the slender frame beneath him shrink back as if wanting to bury herself into the ground. Tasting the mild tang of oranges she had eaten earlier, heady craving became heightened as his kiss became possessive and passionate. Holding her closer, he gave in to the odd indefiniteness that dictated his actions. Losing track of time did not matter, as tentative sweetness became ravenous urgency._

_Curling fingers bunched up in the fabric of his yukata no longer pushed but pulled. Willingly returning his ardor with equal enthusiasm, she was pressing up against the leg wedged between hers. It was as if that one small gesture had reopened a sub-conscious craving that had been successfully repressed. He had thoroughly frustrated her with that unexpected move and now… she wanted relief._

_Restless fingers slipped between the overlapping folds of cloth to brush a nipple, then stole downwards but were stopped by a hand grasping her wrist. He was now kissing her forehead, the other hand sliding beneath her knee as she draped a leg about his hips. _

"_Byakuya… Please…"_

_There was no mistaking her request with such suggestive body language and withdrawing slightly, he found himself looking into half-lidded eyes, pleading expression reflecting growing desire in his own._

_Gathering her into his arms and rising as long legs wrapped around his waist, he used his highest level of shyunpo to return to his private chambers._

* * *

Strolling towards the execution grounds as the appointed time drew nearer, inner turmoil became even more disturbing. He didn't want to think about Hisana, but he did. He didn't want to be reminded of Rukia, but soon he would be. As to one other that only opened up a gaping quagmire of bleakness… he didn't even want to go there. The only avenue left to him was trivial distraction: Abarai Renji. 

The man wasn't dead. Having him placed in a holding cell, so the buffoon would not be prone to dying a second time round was in vain. Attempting to get him discharged had not worked either, since he had disgraced himself on the battlefield by surviving his defeat, despite being alone. After clashing with the Kaien-like intruder, Renji's brain must have been addled to the extent that he would challenge his superior in a fight he couldn't win. Rebellious flames had to be doused.

At the instant that his lieutenant had collapsed before him, Soul Slayer breaking into two, Byakuya pitied the man. There had been a tightening twinge somewhere in the region of his chest, which he ignored. Gripping finely-woven silk covering his left pectoral and holding it for a moment before pulling the cloth off, he dropped it on top of the motionless form sprawled at his feet.

Walking away from the bloodied figure, not caring if he lived or died, there was only one thing that plagued his mind. Why hadn't he conclusively finished him? Defying the rules to such an extent only merited immediate death. _Is it because I want a small compensation of conscience for what I'm about to witness? Renji, at least I spared you the pain I am about to suffer._

He didn't know… or maybe he did. Memory skimming back to those earlier days, when he'd first joined the Gotei 13 and Urahara Kisuke had once said to Ukitake-senpai …

_When somebody matters, I'd prefer to see that they are able to break my heart over and over again, rather than a silent corpse. Of course, there's always a limit to that…which is why Yoruichi's the drastic opposite. She slays them at once, so they don't hurt her anymore. One day, maybe I can change her mind._

The woman who would cross his path had been affected. That one time she could have killed him with a blast spell but didn't, when it was obvious he did matter to her. What she had advocated thereafter… Byakuya had been mellowed in turn, and the end result was the minimal preservation of life, without compromising on his values. He had not been able to completely erase her influence after all.

Why did it apply only to Renji, and not Rukia? Then he remembered.

_I promised you all. I wouldn't allow any more crazy impulses that corrupt the heart to overrule the mind. I'm sorry…_

0o---------------------------o0

List of definitions in alphabetical order

**Senbonzakura: **A Thousand Cherry Trees (Byakuya's Soul Slayer)

**Zangetsu: **Cutting Moon (Ichigo's Soul Slayer)


	8. Being stung

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are also in this font, as they are being remembered).

When I use the word 'man', I'm using it in the context of gender and not (im) mortality.

Will put up a list of suffixes shortly.

To make the scenes clearer:

_Followed by words in this font--- Past_

Followed by words mainly in this font--- Present.

**Previously:**

Why did it apply only to Renji, and not Rukia? Then he remembered.

_I promised you all. I wouldn't allow any more crazy impulses that corrupt the heart to overrule the mind. I'm sorry…_

0o-----------------o0

**Being stung**

_**(1)**__It was an afternoon they'd never forget._

_He hadn't been sure if it was a good idea._

_The bundle of deceptive fragility straddling him seemed to think otherwise. _

_Her unconventional methods, fortified with honeyed words and persuasive seductiveness made her a frightening woman. In short, the type your parents warned you about. He did not care. Allaying his numerous doubts and questions, making up for his lack of experience… thoroughly quashing all resistance. He was captivated. She teased, tormented and tantalized him into wanting more. There was no end to her mischief. _

_An example was the trail of not-so-random hickies left on the fair expanse of skin, telltale evidence he'd have to cover up with a scarf the next day and which eventually became a habit. _

_Byakuya was also discovering the perilous joys of varying angles and snug dampness enclosing heightened nerve endings._

_Except for one jarring note, when he questioned her about obvious experience._

"_Now? Only you. I am faithful to whoever I'm with at that point of time." _

_To hear and see further assurance from her was a temporary satisfaction, before he was preoccupied once more. She had thoroughly outmanoeuvred him in this round. _

_They were establishing a pattern that neither would anticipate the outcome of._

* * *

_Ichigo, you have to win. He won't spare you. And I'd better concentrate._

Heading deeper into the woods, the second division captain hot on her heels, Shihouin Yoruichi was annoyed and tired. Continuous usage of spiritual energy for the last two days had greatly drained energy and stamina, and she could muster up only slightly more than half of her original power. Having to conserve said energy limited the manoeuvres she could use. Trying to stop someone without killing them was really cumbersome. _Withdrawing from serious combat for a hundred years has really made me rusty…_

There was a lot of foliage to avoid slamming into. Being marked with Suzumebachi's deadliness at shikai-level and sneered at by its wielder stung. First Byakuya, and now Soi Fong. Did all those she once helped in training hate her so much, to want her dead? Byakuya's hostility was understandable, but this pursuer's was not. The good thing about having worked with certain people before was that one knew how to manipulate them. She needed an area where there would be minimal chances of intrusion.

A second bout of lightning-fast taijutsu and shyunpo competitiveness was exchanged, resulting in yet another wound, this time across the left cheek. Gloating scorn from the other only added to her irritation. Overshadowed by two large trees, Yoruichi had never felt more belittled… and angry.

Seeing a bleeding, stooped figure panting with exertion, the current leader of the Special Operations Squad smiled. There would be no escape this time. This was where she could truly establish the distance between them both. The former underling would now prove her superiority. Time to teach the other a fatally memorable lesson.

"Don't you get it? I'm better than you. Give up."

There was a sudden gradual increase in Soi Fong's aura, as if the weather had become humid and suffocating; that tumultuous swirling of air as if fiery vapour had been created- _Could it be…_

"Surprised? This is the first time I'm showing you this. I invented it. A mixture of Hakuda and Kidou. I haven't even named it yet."

_Another person knows __**it**__? She has not yet attained the completed stage, though._ Only one person had ever seen and survived its ultimate penalty, but only because he had given her no choice. Soi Fong was lucky; given how drained and reluctant she felt, all Yoruichi could really pull out was the completed version for a very limited period of time. Besides…

_Even in any form, once entirely unleashed, the summoned power cannot be retracted until all is spent, unless one has enough control and experience over it. _

True, it would increase all individual combat attributes tremendously. However, using it would only lead to a greater cost to oneself each time, which was just one of the many pitfalls of this technique.

Then again, Shyunshin Yoruichi had never been one to play safely.

A promise had been made to Kisuke. She would return to him.

"No…"

Pupils no longer enlarged but narrowing until they resembled a serpent's, she decided to be frank again. Taking up a long neglected stance, head bowed, regretful determination answered her former subordinate.

"It has a name."

The air around them became slightly heavier. The initial pressure Yoruichi gave off was vastly different from Soi Fong's; it was hardly apparent.

"Shyunkou."

An eerie whine filled the air.

"Do you know why the garment you wear has no cloth on the back and shoulders?"

A thin tendril of light appeared and condensed, originating from the small aura that surrounded a fist extended to the side.

"Because-"

Strangely colourless light emitted heat, now emanating from thicker streams off her upper torso as Yoruichi hammered home the knowledge of why she had always worn a sleeveless, backless robe. Familiar warmth materialized and flared outwards like a visible shockwave to cloak her, while displacing rock and soil.

Quicksilver escalation of uncaged power was similar to the volatile eruption of a volcano. Dangerous majesty darkened into silver, as the swift surge of released repression set afire and blew up everything else in the immediate vicinity. Her enlightened opponent was staring into slit-less eyes that now resembled some awakened ancient predator.

"Careful, little one…"

Channelled lightning was now a seething mass, violent flash of a devouring nova expanding and obliterating anything within sight that did not present sufficient resistance. An easy smile and the familiar reappearance of thin pupils did nothing to assure the other.

"Even I have not mastered this technique."

_This is impossible! How- Why- _Bafflement had become horrified disbelief. A thick carpet of ash extended far behind the other, as charcoal-black and smog-gray fumes lovingly intertwined to rise to a cloudless sky. Surrounded only by ruins, a trembling Soi Fong was overwhelmingly dumbstruck by the monstrous demonstration of terrifying lethality. She had known her former commander's deftness with kidou, especially the lightning-based ones. But now, she knew what Ukitake-san had meant all those years ago.

_Flash. Speed. Lightning. Fiery destruction. Your leader's secondary and much lesser known nickname was the Goddess of War and Devastation…one that she detested. _Then he had refused to say anymore, not even how she'd supposedly earned it. Whether he really knew the reasons or not, the second division captain had dismissed it as mere lip service, exaggerated by time.

"Why did I never show it to anyone? This… is too dangerous to use."

Stoic ruefulness cemented the truth, giving the ignorant officer unmistakable insight into what she had really been messing with. Growing understanding was the first chink in self-constructed armour, as the shorter female lunged towards her former commander. Her anger was no longer repressed.

"Idiot!"

Soi Fong did not want to think, or question why she suddenly feared for a despised outlaw's life…

"You are not ready for this method."

That statement had its effect on a temporarily subdued shinigami. The hand and claw Yoruichi gripped was starting to tremble. The older woman blinked, taken aback by the detected change in attitude.

The gentle firmness of this charismatic warrior who so easily intercepted Suzumebachi was her undoing. _Why can't you- Ever the caring mentor_- Icy calm and hard-earned control was gone. Soi Fong was Xiao Ling once again; the girl who passionately revered her superior, who hated her goddess for her betrayal, who could not forgive the pain of being abandoned by one whom she loved more than life itself…

"Why are you still stronger than me! You should have decayed in power and lost! The one who betrayed my loyalty; the one I wanted to catch and crush with my own hands…Why? Why! **WHY**!"

Forgetting all her plans, tactics and grace, resorting to crude viciousness instead, an irate shinigami tried to strike her idol that deftly evaded every move. It was as if Fate was mocking her. After all the hard work and burning ambition, Soi Fong still could not catch up to her. Even worse, she was made painfully aware of the obvious gap between their talented capacities. _What I needed a hundred years to learn but not yet perfect, you attained completeness in a shorter time!_ _Even before you left-_ Spitting out blunt sentiment that only revealed the incredible depth of her long buried affection, she finally charged forward once more.

_I have to end this. _The defensive entity readied herself to throw her first punch.

_No killing intention? What the- I can't hold back- _A temporary connection between earth and sky was established, as raw, uncompressed havoc was discharged.

Silence had never been more stressful.

Yoruichi was glad she had taken a step forward after fully extending her fist. It had taken a colossal amount of strength to use up most of the energy, while her angled arm was not yet straight. She refused to be the executioner again. The one who always had to pick up the pieces… except there wouldn't have been any left in this case.

_Silly child, to attempt a mad headlong dash… Why do you want to die by my hands? Don't you want my life? _

Hearing a strange sound from the one she'd nearly pulverized into dust, the victor glanced at her. The pitiful sight of quivering lips and a shivering figure rendered her unable to look away.

_I don't understand this…_

Gazing at this aloof, disarming legend, treasuring every proud line and curve that she had wept for and committed to memory for so long, a heart-broken soul could not stop the tears.

"Why…"

Excruciating anguish was bundled with a variety of unburdened secrets that finally crippled her, as she broke down.

"Why didn't you take me with you… Yoruichi-sama…"

Staring down at the defeated form huddled at her feet, she finally understood what had humbled this one. Shihouin Yoruichi had never been aware of anything else concerning her successor, apart from admiration and fierce devotion. Now though, catching a deeper glimpse of what had empowered such animosity… she didn't know what to say.

This woman had never been as important as Kisuke, Kuukaku, or-or… well, one or two others. More like a child, rather than an equal. She couldn't reciprocate such faithful adoration, because there had never been any similarly considerate intentions on her side. All that could be offered was friendship. Guilt gnawed at her conscience.

_What a lousy leader I am, for not even noticing after all this time. Kisuke, you'd agree with me. I've done it again, haven't I? Fostered tender feelings in another unsuspecting innocent that I can't return. Except for that one instance…_

* * *

_Tutoring him in this aspect was rather gratifying, since he was such a keen student and quick to grasp… concepts. Yoruichi enjoyed his inventiveness and spontaneity, especially with regards to location. _

_His office when no one was around, their private baths… the best tryst had been the one night secretly spent out in the woods. Sandwiched between blankets and snug within his embrace, comfortably ignoring external chill as rash passion incited them into exhilarating experimentation (Hooking her legs over his shoulders, as the provocative crescendo of their unrestrained duet spiralled into oblivion, him seducing with the alluring drug that was his body). His iron control now rivalled and competed with hers, as they became passionately intertwined while tossing caution to the wind (Lips and hands boldly roving everywhere, tasting mingled exertions before returning to rekindle smouldering embers of desire). _

_Limited free time was never wasted. Agreeing about politics, bickering over rules and clashing violently on certain perspectives of life, making up (but not necessarily calming down) was always so much more enjoyable. The dynamics were disjointed, yet cohesive… Ice fires burned so deep. She was aware that with a polished blade of such elevated magnificence, to wield it was an exercise of double-edged unpredictability. Kisuke had pointed out tender kindness, but also highlighted uncaring harshness… the most cruel and captivating of combinations. If only she could figure out what Byakuya thought… _

_It was hot, hungry and explosive. The unquenchable thirst for each other as they spent countless afternoons locked in an amorous battle for dominance. It was yearning, aching and fulfilling as he lost all semblance of propriety in her embrace, revelling_ _in the unabashed moans and pleas he invoked from her. His back and shoulders bore stark evidence of her responses to his caresses from the numerous times they came together, turning fantasy into reality and adding fuel to thwarting peaceful sleep at night. _

_When they passed each other in public while maintaining the appearance of mere acquaintances, a mischievous quirk of upturned lips was enough to distract him with memories of her exploring his body with agonizing teasing, or the white-hot ecstasy of coming in her mouth, or…It was fortunate that no one else had picked up on his wandering concentration. _

_The salacious honesty of her behaviour in their shared privacy was something he couldn't get enough of, one of a variety of moods that blended well into each other. What the heir of the Kuchiki clan liked most however, was to simply hold her in his arms and enjoy their closeness. Quicksilver intelligence, entertaining wit and generous affection were as natural to her as breathing. The age difference bothered him as much as the questionable teacher-student interaction: for about five seconds. Judging from the way she sometimes yelled at him to be less mature so she'd feel more responsible, age was not an issue. As to the second topic, their shared reasoning was that they had never really been in the category. Nothing made him feel as if there was anything disgraceful or dishonest about their recent development. What bothered him was the way she treated their relationship so… casually. At least they could agree about not wanting to give others something to gossip about. He couldn't figure out why this one would matter so much to him._

_It was when he couldn't stop thoughts of her randomly popping into his mind, balking at the persistent question of how many she had taken into her private chambers before, along with his uncontrollably bitter irrationality at rumours suggesting she and the rebellious Urahara Kisuke were possible lovers, that he knew… He had acquired an irreparable weakness._

_There was only one way to allay poisonous jealousy, and ensure she wouldn't be with any others. Otherwise he'd probably slice them into infinite pieces before turning on her. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't kill her for possible unfaithfulness. _

0o-------------------o0

**(1)--- There is a good reason why my pairing states Yoruichi x Byakuya, not the other way around. Due to the ratings on this site, the first section has been heavily censored. If you are mature enough (even if you're not 17) and want to read the full version of that section, go to my profile and click on the link to via 'Stories not on this site'.**

List of Definitions

**Hakuda**: One of the four forms of fighting styles for a shinigami. Basically taijutsu, or otherwise known as 'hand-to-hand/physical combat'

**Suzumebachi: **Sparrow Hornet (Soi Fong's soul slayer. A long, single claw-like metal extension worn on her right middle finger. For short-range combat and probably assassination purposes.)


	9. The broken blade

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N** : Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are also in this font, as they are being remembered).

When I use the word 'man', I'm using it in the context of gender and not (im) mortality.

To make the scenes clearer:

* * *

_Followed by words in this font -------Past_

* * *

Followed by words mainly in this font -----Present.

* * *

**Previously:**

_It was when he couldn't stop thoughts of her randomly popping into his mind, balking at the persistent question of how many she had taken into her private chambers before, along with his uncontrollably bitter irrationality at rumours suggesting she and the rebellious Urahara Kisuke were possible lovers, that he knew… He had acquired an irreparable weakness._

_There was only one way to allay poisonous jealousy, and ensure she wouldn't be with any others. Otherwise he'd probably slice them into infinite pieces before turning on her. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't kill her for possible unfaithfulness._

0o-------------------o0

**The broken blade**

If this were a manga scene like all his other favorites (such as Naruto, Berserk and Gensomaden Saiyuki), the random thought crossed his mind that from the way Kuchiki Byakuya was looking at him, it seemed tenderly mellow and most likely to inspire seinen-ai misinterpretation. However, that was immediately forgotten as there were other more relevant matters to point out, such as "I told you I saw every move!"

What was the weird look for? That bit of verbal gloating did not lessen the sheer pleasure and gratitude that surged through Byakuya's body. Rukia was still alive, and so was Renji… for the time being. This brash nobody might actually give him some entertainment, before he executed such presumptuous insolence. Remembering who had championed this youth only sharpened his thirst to slay him. And it had nothing to do with the little things, such as seeing Kurosaki Ichigo using personal artefacts that had the Shihouin emblem **every time** they met. _Although he offers an alternative solution- _The traitorous thought was quashed. Talk would not settle this; thorough clearance would.

His opponent amazed and challenged each time he veered on the edge of defeat, by coming back stronger. To see continuous improvement in such a short time was astonishing, that an unranked vagrant could push him to the extremes. However, no matter what this Ichigo could do, Byakuya knew he had the edge where experience was concerned. That one's tutelage under Yoruichi hadn't been as long or varied, and it showed. The arrogant upstart would be humbled by his own mentor's teachings.

_Circumstances. Landscape. Psychology. These three deciding factors can change the outcome of a battle. A weaker person can defeat a stronger foe by knowing how to apply this well. Figure out the opposition. Conceal your true tactics until Success is most certain, and strike when all preparations have led to the chosen time. Use the surroundings to your advantage and if it isn't, make it so. Manipulate and mislead the mindset of your opponent to extremes; confidence should explode into arrogance, doubt should flourish into fear. _

The Kaien-like vagrant had become stronger and much faster, but that was all his bankai could do. He believed it made him superior and that Byakuya had no more skills to truly threaten… Good.

They were now within his ring of swords. Excellent.

The Kuchiki clan leader had upped his own speed, and now the enemy was face to face with him, the clashing of their blades the final step. Time to snare his prey.

A summoned secondary sword impaled the other's foot, pinning it to the ground. Two fingers were extended, grazing the right pectoral as those brown eyes widened in fear.

"The fourth Bakudou… White Lightning."

His finishing ploy was executed with total success.

Looking down at the bowed and dying figure, Byakuya decided to send him off with some respect. The dead couldn't divulge secrets anyway. The next time, he would focus his swords on that one's mentor. Radiant sunlight glinted off a raised blade.

"It is over, Kurosaki Ichigo."

A third party disagreed vehemently. He hadn't deduced it was two entities he had to defeat, not one. The second was far deadlier and cruder. What horrendous unpredictability was this! Unbelievable speed coupled with heightened power overturned the tides of victory dramatically. At the mercy of this… Hollow, Kuchiki Byakuya witnessed a miracle.

Ichigo wrested back control of his spirit from the irate monster. And sincerely apologised for the unfortunate interruption. That led the older man to understand what really lay behind this opponent's character. Now he knew why the other's sword had no hilt-grip.

_You do not possess the trait… Your true intention all along is not to kill, but only to defeat… Yoruichi, is this your doing? That he would combat my ruthlessness with his compassion? Chastising me indeed…_

No matter. An end had to be drawn. They readied for the final strike. As passionate night merged with unbending day during their moment of conclusion, he understood. No true hilt-grip or crossguard initially on that queerly shaped weapon… the initial characteristics defining a soul slayer were a true reflection of its owner's personality. Absence of a crossguard meant Zangetsu was purely for attacking, its excessive power and outstanding swiftness for immobilizing any opposition with one strike. When mastered, there would be no need to defend. With a pure conscience as the ultimate blade…

Byakuya acknowledged his own defeat, even as blood spurted from his chest wound. This boy had not seen the duel as a competition of power or recognition, but as a struggle against a system that the Kuchiki clan leader had based his convictions and morality on. In doing so, Rukia had been cruelly pushed aside by his own rigidity… he owed her.

He would not pursue the rebels any longer.

Then the truth of Aizen's betrayal was broadcasted. Three captains? Renji could not handle them alone. Now Byakuya had reasons to go after the two escaping shinigami. Family responsibility and self-deprecation… Rukia needed proof, or maybe it was his own guilt that needed assuaging. It was time to show her that brotherly concern did exist. He could only hope it wasn't too late.

_I will find and bring you back safely, Rukia! I won't allow a repeat of earlier circumstances, when I let another slip away…when I didn't try hard enough to convince her to stay, even though she'd lied to me…_

* * *

_Sitting in front of his armoire, she was untangling mussed dark strands while he watched. A mauve kosode was left open, silken softness managing to cover sufficiently but not conceal the sensuous contours of her body. Pulling a night robe of deepest teal on as he rose and moved to stand behind her, long fingers removed the comb from her grasp as he took over._

_It was so reassuring. She wouldn't mind if he was always here to do this- No. What was she thinking? Was she losing sight of her own self-imposed boundaries? The idea made her feel hot and cold at the same time, and she reached up for him. Alabaster gentleness enveloped rich brown pensiveness. Shifting slightly and kneeling down, luxurious cotton folds surrounded the smaller figure as their cheeks met. The sight of them together in the mirror, that rare smile of his which always brought a lump to her throat while something inside seemed to melt…impishly nervous giggles induced a smooth sound of approving amusement from him. Clasped to his chest, the comfort of his touch induced her to huddle more closely against him. Inhaling the musky scent of their satiated beatitude settled something within her._

"_You know, this type of tag is a lot better than the other kind we used to engage in."_

_Thick lashes rested on cocoa smoothness as she laughed at the wry sentiment. Byakuya had a sense of dry humour that was often hidden. Discovering more to appreciate and admire each time they interacted, it seemed that she would need forever to truly know all of him… time which she did not have. This was just a dalliance._

"_Yoruichi… switch houses."_

"_Eh?"_

_Opening her eyes, dreamy pupils gazed at misty ones in the mirror._

"_Give up Shihouin for Kuchiki... permanently."_

_Her throat felt like it had been sandpapered. The tone, his look…She wasn't sure if her lungs were still working. Unsure if her ears were deceiving her, she had to ask. The words were hesitant._

"_Are you proposing that I stay…"_

"_By my side. Always."_

_Now she was truly at a loss for words. His request elated her… to the extent that it was horrifying. The free-spirited woman didn't need emotional complications. She was frightened that she might not be able to fully return his affection or worse, if it was more than such mere simplicity as she was beginning to suspect…so she stalled a direct answer through misdirection._

"_So show me what you would do, if that wish of yours ever comes true."_

_Scooping her up in his arms, he returned them both back to the sleeping dais. Now that she was aware of what really affected him, everything else took on a different interpretation. Seared by his passion and shaken to the soul by the sheer frankness he expressed; in the tender manner his hands glided over her body, his mouth branding each spot with unforgettable possession and his actions as he induced her entire being to respond to his welcome invasions… she realised the difference at last. It wasn't base lust to him; it was making love. _

_She rejoiced at the knowledge, even as sorrow threatened to splinter her heart into infinite pieces. Her own reaction terrified her. Shihouin Yoruichi was afraid of something she couldn't fight and didn't know how to handle, so she maximized procrastination… until Fate made the choice for her. _

0o--------------------o0

Note: A crossguard can also be known as a handguard.

List of Definitions

**Bakudou**: Sub-class of kidou. Binding spell.

**Kosode**: Inner kimono, worn as undergarment.

**Seinen-ai**: 'Man'-love

List of basic suffixes (Heavily simplified)

-bo: Used for boys and generally denotes cuteness.

-kun: Suffix added on to the end of a young male's name by a friend around the same age (usually more affectionate than using –san).

-san: Normally used in general politeness. Can be used for male or female.

-sama: Japanese Equivalent of 'Mr'. More respectful/ honorific than -san.

-dono: More respectful/honorific than –sama. Normally used to address nobility and/or royalty.

-chan: Usually used on females, or between males who are close friends

* * *


	10. Choice of fate

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: At last, the present is fully mine to play with. To make the scenes clearer:

_Followed by words in this font- Past_

Followed by words mainly in this font -Present.

**Previously:**

_She rejoiced at the knowledge, even as sorrow threatened to splinter her heart into infinite pieces. Her own reaction terrified her. Shihouin Yoruichi was afraid of something she couldn't fight and didn't know how to handle, so she maximised procrastination… until Fate made the choice for her._

0o-o0

**The choice of fate**

That treacherous Aizen had escaped again. Truly despicable, such as trying to kill his own vice-captain, wounding so many honourable comrades just for the sake of selfish ambition… looking at the aftermath of devious deception was depressing. It was even more depressing when Kuukaku managed to slip away before she did.

Ichigo was being attended to by Inoue, which meant he'd be fine. The medics tending to Abarai Renji were already on the way to their headquarters. Their captain was personally aiding the last victim, with Rukia by his side. There was nothing left for her to do, but-

"Hey, Gorgeous, where do you think you're going?"

Despite being relatively basted and bruised after fighting his commanding officer, a somewhat battered Shunsui was blocking her way. His light-hearted tone was in glaring contrast to his detaining stance. There was no hostility, but his friendliness could not be trusted. She could sense Soi Fong not too far behind her. This felt too much like Shogi.

"Yoruichi, your extra knowledge and input will be invaluable. Besides… we have so much to catch up on."

Check. That was typical of Ukitake Juushiro, able to eloquently sum up the situation while pacifying opposing sides. Looking away from him to the only open avenue, she found herself face-to-face with-

"Yama-ji…"

Checkmate. A benevolent visage was lined with wisdom, sorrow and paternal understanding. She'd probably disappointed and angered him with her departure, and now he could exact justice. His wrath was not to be taken lightly, as the captains of the eighth and thirteenth divisions knew. Waiting with baited breath for his judgment…

"Twenty years ago, on his sickbed, your grandfather desperately wanted to see his favourite grandchild one last time."

Arm extended, one finger pointed past her, in the direction of – An overpowering need to go where she had not been in ages. Whirling about, she dashed past Juushiro before remembering to employ shyunpo. Everything became an insignificant blur. It'd take less than two hundred shyunpa to get there. Not that the object of her affections was going anywhere…

Finally finding and landing in front of a sleek monument of stone, Yoruichi studied the bold black lettering inscribed on the unblemished surface. Housed within a hexagonal dome of marble, frosted glass dividing the polished panes resembling hard-packed snow… It looked so cold and lonely. It was nothing like the warmth of his belly-rumbling laugh, or the snappish flare of his bad temper. Only the unique shape of this architecture showcased his quirky individuality.

"I've returned. I… couldn't- should have… I…"

The three captains were concealing their presence, but she could feel them just beyond the perimeter of the Shihouin ancestral graveyard. At least they couldn't see into this partially protected privacy.

Head bowed, she was sinking to her knees onto the cool surface. What did one say to this? It was so difficult.

"I didn't bring o-kayu or your favourite flowers. The human world is full of surprises. If you saw me now, you'd be scolding me to eat more since I'm always too thin for you. Kisuke still cringes whenever I lose my temper, in case I beat him up again. I-I…"

Hands dangling loosely by the sides, hot tears silently slipped down her cheeks as she closed her eyes. Willing her uncooperative body not to shake with the effort of truly expressing her grief, she shed the mask of pretense, the detached façade that was her shield. She never knew if he'd understood her motives, and now explanation was futile.

_Ji, I'm sorry. All this power, and it can't bring happiness even to the ones I love. Why couldn't I have been there for you, just like I was for- But after that, another needed me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…_

* * *

_Summer had just ended, and the cooler autumnal weather was greatly appreciated._

_Weathered stone made up steep sides of the rust-red canyon in the outermost southern wilderness of Rukongai, jagged rocks being worn away and reshaped by relentless sea-green ferocity making its unceasing pilgrimage towards wide-open arms of the sea. The fierce roar resulting from their brutal onslaught for freedom literally drowned out everything else, except on certain occasions._

_While launching multiple paralysis bolts at the other figure, she was soaring backwards through the air. Yellow energy exploded on fast-flowing water, the swiftly moving figure deftly avoiding them while running on top of strong currents as easily as if it were solid ground. Zipping from one side to the other in a deliberately haphazard manner, the uninjured target was finally within attacking range of his opponent. Catapulting off a wide boulder and shattering it to bits from such forcefulness, one hand drew out his weapon before he swung it forward with both hands._

_Even as his lean fingers closed around the stout piece of wood, she dropped a pebble. It fell undisturbed, until an earth-white slipper pushed against it. Somersaulting off the bit of granite, Yoruichi easily escaped over the taller figure who should someday mature into a wonderful man and husband for another (albeit a bit hotheaded). Twisting into a headlong spin on the downward arc, she landed on a misshapen boulder._

"_Not bad, for somebody who's not even preparing for entrance into the higher ranks. You haven't made up your mind about whether to become at least a fifth-seated officer?"_

_That earned her a wolfish grin from a descending opponent, along with another stabbing motion of the quarterstaff. _

_"I'll take at least a decade to decide, if I don't get distracted for another decade. Didn't my sis or Kisuke tell you that?"_

_Manoeuvring sideways around that blow, she appeared behind him, ruffled his hair with one hand and chuckled at the bristling male._

_"Kaien, I don't need him to point out something so obvious."_

_Before he could reply, they both sensed the change in spiritual pressure that was as subtle as blowing up a house._

_"That mixture of energies! Kisuke and others-"_

_Shiba Kaien was cut off with a stinging pain to the back of his neck. Unsteady knees began to buckle._

_"Yo- Yorui- W- why..."_

_Bearing the limp body to the wide safety of dusty rock, she laid him down gently as his eyelids began to flutter shut. The drug would keep him unconscious for approximately half an hour._

_Looking in the direction of tremendous conflict, which wasn't that far from here… It had finally happened. Luckily all preparations had been completed, just in case._

"_It's too dangerous for you. Goodbye, Kaien-kun."_

* * *

The distinct crunch of a cracking tile alerted her to another person. Reining in the effect of too many nonsensical memories, she took a deep breath and looked to the left. The sight of a certain youth with orange hair, stepping as if he were an unbalanced crab tottering across a mat of hot stones and eggshells was highly amusing. No one would guess that this youthful stripling might possibly be the most amazing shinigami in history.

"How are your wounds?"

"Yoruichi-san? Uh, I'm good. Another day and I'll be ready to kick that spectacled moron's butt all over Soul Society!"

Resisting the urge to guffaw at his enthusiasm, she sat down on the rooftop. He joined her, soul slayer by his side. It was a full moon tonight. Was it the same where people watched gimmicky exorcism shows, or was there even a sliver of beauty where the three renegades had fled?

"Yoruichi-san, thank you for helping me to acquire bankai. If it weren't for you, my quest to save Rukia would have failed right in front of her jail. That reminds me, should I be thanking Urahara-san, or beating the crap out of him when we meet again?"

_Kaien-kun… if only you hadn't… Kuukaku and I miss you. And what I couldn't save- Help you with, I shall give to this boy._

Affectionately patting Ichigo on the head and smirking at his irritation, she decided to ask how the fight with his 'arch-nemesis' had gone. Pumping his fist victoriously in the air, the energetic teenager was more than happy to spill the beans, until…

"On the verge of absolute defeat, I lost control and… a freak took over. I nearly killed someone who didn't deserve such an atrocious assault, even if he is a jackass for wanting to execute his own sister. I wanted to win so badly, I…"

The memory of that duel had scarred him. She didn't want to see such innocent strength in torment. Brown eyes were downcast, and a frowning visage was fraught with doubtful fear. _It's time to tell him. You and I don't want the same thing to happen. _

"Wanting to win isn't a crime here. Who doesn't want to live? You're just like Kisuke, with an extremely strong will to survive. You're lucky By- your opponent was powerful enough to survive ferocious hostility, until you regained control. Next time, you might not be so lucky, and it could be your friends who perish when they try to stop your other half."

"What's happening to me? Yoruichi-san, you know, don't you?"

She had a lot of explaining to do. For the next five minutes, he was absolutely quiet. Ichigo was petrified as it started becoming clear to him. The real challenge had begun: the quest for dominance over his soul. Knowing that Kisuke and Yoruichi would be there for him allayed some of the terror; that he was forever a fusion with what he fought. That was why his mask kept adding stripes to the blankness… there was only so far his luck would prevail. Yet she seemed so sad, it made him wonder what had happened back then. The gravity of his case was imprinted forever after the next five minutes.

"It is a war you cannot afford to lose. Just like you, our silly Urahara-san temporarily lost the battle when his friends were around, and then I had to stop him."

It was an event both parties always wanted to forget. He had been unable to prevent it; she had been forced to do the one thing that had hurt beyond belief for both of them.

"I'll tell you what happened when Kisuke wasn't quite himself, or more like too much of himself..." **(1)**

o0-0o

**(1)- **In ep. 19, Kisuke's eyes are grey (in the close-up where he was eating an apple), and I was trying to figure out the reason why there would be a focus on his eye for such prolonged seconds. The only times that Ichigo's eyes were grey/silver, were when he first became a Death god/ Hollow hybrid, and when he fought Renji and upped his power by using a source not yet known to him. This helped me deduce that Kisuke, who helped Ichigo achieve this breakthrough, probably tried the same method on himself (Aizen did mention he succeeded in such an experiment, and seeing that Kisuke was willing to figure out and know about dangerous methods, like unorthodox attainment of bankai…). IMHO, the only difference in the current SS arc is that unlike Ichigo, Kisuke has won the fight for personality dominance, probably become truly fused with his Hollow-half and is able to fully tilize his power without worrying about losing control. Long before he met Ichigo however, it was probably another story. And seeing how easily he handles an Espada like Yammy… That's my theory. I'll have to look at his sword again, though. And I sure can ramble, can't I? XD

List of Definitions

**-Ji**: Affectionate, intimate way of addressing her grandfather. 'Ji-ji' might have sounded too funny and ruined the mood, even though I would have preferred that.

**Shikai**: The first stage that a shinigami achieves on being able to release his Soul Slayer, after leaving the academy.

**Shogi**: Japanese chess on a 9 x 9 board, with 20 pieces per side. Objective: To capture the opponent's King.

**Shyunpa**: The singular form. 'Shyunpo' is the plural term in this case.


	11. Shihouin Yoruichi Vs Urahara Kisuke

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are in this font, as they are being remembered).

There isn't a lot known about their fighting abilities, so this is just my take on what a duel between the two would be like. Urahara Kisuke's bankai is not official.

To make the scenes clearer:

* * *

_Followed by words in this font--- Past_

* * *

Followed by words mainly in this font ---Present.

* * *

**Previously**: 

It was an event both parties always wanted to forget. He had been unable to prevent it; she had been forced to do the one thing that had hurt beyond belief for both of them.

"I'll tell you what happened when Kisuke wasn't quite himself, or more like too much of himself..."

0o---------------------------o0

**ShihouinYoruichi Vs UraharaKisuke**

_"__Please surrender. Don't make us-"_

_He was still fighting back, but the wounds…why wasn't __Kisuke__ going all out? To break free and avoid being arrested, he would have to defeat those four officers and at the least, it would require __bankai__, not __shikai__. Could it be- __Deflecting __Shinsou__ left a momentary opening that __Aizen__ exploited from behind, a merciless edge cutting deeply into unresisting flesh._

_Seeing that wounded her.__ Gasping in horror and about to intervene, she watched a balled fist collide with the fifth-division captain's midsection. That blow sent the other man flying backwards, concentrated hostility resulting in him shearing the stout trunk of a tree into two. The vice captain of __Aizen's__ was no longer smiling. __Ukitake Juushiro__ was gripping __Sougyo__ no __Kotowari__ so tightly his knuckles were a skeletal white. __Byakuya__ seemed unperturbed, although beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. Something was not right. The humidity was now more stifling than usual._

_Shoulders slumping forwards, straw-__coloured__ hair fell back as her best friend lifted his head. A gust of wind rose from nowhere, brought on by a staggeringly drastic surge of power. And the white blobs that swirled into shape from nowhere, to start obscuring his face…_

_"__U-__Urahara__…"_

_Voice trailing off, the silver-haired captain was thoroughly unnerved by his good friend's eyes. It was as if the eyeballs had been inverted inside out. Once-white sclera was now darkening, while his pupils were lightening into frightening blankness. A cunning smile appeared on those charmingly jovial features. Then he was gone, moving towards the owner of __Shinsou__, as if moderately serious injuries had never been suffered._

_Ichimaru__ Gin never knew what hit him. One moment he was poised to block, the next minute all he saw was a savage flare of hellish pink that sliced through his __zanpaku-tou__… and into his chest. __Aizen__ was slowly climbing to his feet, one hand over his ribs as he coughed out blood._

_His speed was frightening, and his strength… was that her dearest friend? No matter the situation, __Urahara Kisuke__ would never try to kill his fellow comrades; unless- A dry chuckle interrupted her thoughts. It was eerily humorless, and the rose-__coloured__ aura surrounding __Benihime__ was-_

_"__Why has your spiritual aura changed so dramatically? __Kisuke__, what's happening to __you!"_

_The only response was a black-and-white blade being raised, as its user turned to look at the clueless man. Face now emotionless, but the murderous intent radiated resembled a tornado-_

_"__Move!"_

_A blinding flash was followed with a deafening roar of imploding matter; the resultant tremors rocking the ground like a giant throttling a toy._

_As airborne debris began to settle and visibility improved, one could see a gaping schism dividing uneven earth, starting from the spot where a razor-sharp tip rested. Anything taller than grass had been leveled on either side, for at least the next thirty feet. __Benihime__ had created a wide abyss whereby the bottom could not be seen, and her owner was not even winded from exerting such brutal cruelty. Her worst fears had been realized._

_Thrusting a stunned captain she'd retrieved from the target of inexplicable wrath, their superior snapped at them. Her throat still felt sore from screaming the warning._

_"__You three, take __Ichimaru__-san and go!"_

_Protests from __Juushiro__ were silenced with her next words and a gentle smile, even as the entity that seemed alien yet familiar began turning to face them. Fear was unmistakable on their faces; they were worried about this unexpected change. To see the upturned curve of indescribable melancholia, and dull amber eyes in a haggard visage that spoke volumes of unmistakable anguish…__Byakuya__ would understand when he had to apply 'justice' to __Rukia__ many years later._

_"__Keep others away. He wouldn't want to see you all getting killed by a stranger."_

_"__Yoru__-"_

_"__Go!"_

_Not knowing what to think and flustered, __Juushiro__ supported __Aizen__ Sousuke while __Byakuya__ carried an unconscious and badly wounded colleague as they left. Two childhood friends gazed at one another. A thick layer of debris coated the surrounding landscape. A reddish glow burned within pupil-less eyes. _

_"__I want __Kisuke__ back."_

_"__If you would retrieve him, break my will first."_

_Guttural laughter was punctuated with a shockingly swift approach, as he stabbed viciously at the lone challenger. Despite dodging, extensions of the aura surrounding his blade shredded cloth where they touched, and bit into her skin. Evading killing strokes and circling around, she knew that somewhere inside this…thing was the man she valued so deeply. He had never been more graceful… or intimidating. It was frightening; mechanically clinical relentlessness vividly apparent in the way he kept hacking and slashing tirelessly, as if wanting to dice her into dust. _

_One moment he was breathing lewd obscenities in a never-before-used throaty murmur into her ear, the next moment __Benihime__ was doing the perilous talking instead. Substantial craters and jagged crevices marked his failed attempts and her minor victories. His level of __shyunpo__ was now very close to hers, and his movements had become rather unpredictable. Barely keeping a step ahead of him, their game of tag now raised the stakes beyond anything both sides had ever imagined._

_It was a deadly mercurial aerial/ground ballet in which action and reaction were fast, furious and taxing. Evading, blocking, over, under, veering away before rebounding back in… Both sides could not truly wound one another directly with their vast array of skills. Exploding icicles, molten fireballs, putrefying webs, bone-scorching lightning… energies of different colors were repeatedly countered and launched, __colouring__ the landscape with ever-changing scars. Columns of smoke, dust clouds and unearthed soil were scattered everywhere, along with infinite showers of rock. __Honourable__ scruples on her side had never wavered, but his had. Crude goading was not helping._

"_Has the tigress become a kitten? What's the matter; where are your claws?"_

_After another five minutes of this however, she saw no change. If anything, that corrupted reiatsu__ was strengthening, seeping more potently into the sword and being reciprocated. The increasing connection was becoming too palpable, with no sign of struggle affecting this __shinigami__-hollow hybrid. Impassive features were now so immobile that they resembled porcelain and were almost fully marred with bloody fang-like patterns. Time was short._

_"__If you can't use yours, then I'll show you mine!"_

_I have to break it. I have no choice._

_Doing a dizzying series of __backflips__ as the deadly tip came smashing down where she had been a moment __ago__,Yoruichi__ used a charred stump to put more distance between them. More disintegrated tree-bark and stone greeted her from the destructive impact __of that blow. It was time to get really serious. Down on one knee, uneven panting died into silence. Ignoring the numerous gashes and burns that stung, she summoned the desire to… exterminate._

_Using a level eighty-two __hadou__ that spat thick, black sticky acid, she wasn't surprised to see the energy enclosing his blade dissolve them. It bought her enough time, to bring out the dreaded method he had implored her to stop refining after that last incident with the __Menos__ Grande. __Funny how she strove to perfect this for him, just like he had dangerously achieved that specific, untested-yet-attained power to keep up with her.__ So much for healthy competition… _

_We were never good at obeying anyway._

"_Can you do it… can you kill us?"_

_Taunting while pointing __Benihime__ at her, gleaming metal vibrated with soulless bloodlust. Maniacal glee shone in a countenance that seemed to mock. She retaliated by aiming a clenched fist in his direction. Blinking rapidly, useless moisture was prevented from clouding her vision. _

"_I won't repeat myself. I'll kill you."_

_Heat from the sun was no longer felt, as shadows from gathering dark clouds appeared to lengthen. Head lowered and level with hunched shoulders, legs apart and knees bent as he leant forward, both hands were wrapped around a bronze hilt while roiling denseness obscured them completely… leaving only two scarlet orbs visible. From a chilly fog that seemed to snake and expand with a life of its own, she heard him hissing in approval at her words before breaking into derisively nightmarish laughter. A gleaming wall of translucent blood-like hardness separated the two, and there was a rumbling sound from somewhere deep within the bowels of the earth as he lovingly growled the final order to __Benihime__. Only one sarcastically uttered phrase was clearly audible for her benefit._

_"__Bankai__-"_

_It could not be__ evaded. She had to fully __utilis__e __**it**__. Deep yellow took on an ominous silver glow, as scorching edges began to fizzle. Unleashed energy lovingly coiled about her like chain lightning, especially around the left arm. Grim heavens split open as torrents of deadly power streamed down to envelope the motionless entity, protecting their __summoner__ and dissipating surrounding blackness. Huge piercing shards of malice that erupted from beneath her were destroyed by the scorching aura. Living conduits of lightning now resembled an unstable cyclonic funnel of seething godlessness._

_Her reflection was a being of demonic resplendence. Like a river of shimmering red scales sliding over each other, two gigantic, slavering… mouths…wings… talons… with wickedly sharp fangs flanked and towered over him. They curled forward, poised to launch and pierce, maim and/or crush opposition. He was now promising to sheath __Benihime__ completely… within the blood from her heart, after his claws ripped apart her body and bathed in every last drop of vital fluids. The shield he'd initially erected was dissipating. _

_With quick analysis, she knew that to reach him, she would have to counter, get through and even a__fter that, stop him__…or die. This was what the ultimate power of __Shyunkou__ had been harnessed for… unholy elemental fury that supposedly nothing could stop. There should be enough to last until-_

_Landscape as far as the eye could see, now resembled some nether world of smoking, forsaken endlessness. Oppressive pressure generated between the two opponents was enough to induce all wildlife into evacuating as hastily as possible, for at least fifteen miles. A predatory smile graced sylph-like features._

_"__Let's decide this with one strike."_

_He drew back his blade._

_She charged._

_Ruthless decimation met piercing obliteration._

* * *

"That's why you're so worried about me…" 

A wrinkled brow was furrowed with concentration, as he processed what she'd just told him. An uncomfortable silence surrounded them, before being broken by staunch determination.

"I won't let something like that happen. I'll bring the Hollow under control too. There's no way I'll allow myself to harm those I want to protect. You and Urahara-san have my promise on this."

_I don't know how to really stop it, or what's going to happen. But I'l__l try. __For __Tou__-san.__ Karin. __Yuzu. __Chad. __Ishida.__ Rukia__. Inoue._

It was easier said than done. And then telling him that Kisuke had not used bankai in ages (which may or may not be a lie, but was what she knew), and not mentioning the Vizards... had that been the right thing to do? Hopefully when the Hollow took over again, Ichigo wasn't going to be too terrified and try to suppress his fighting reiatsu for future battles, but go to those who could support him from the shadows. That answer brought a genuine smile to her face. _He's so much like you; full of pride and passion that reveres life… _Clearing her throat at the suddenly intense atmosphere, she waved cheerily and turned to leave.

"W-wait!"

"What is it, Ichigo?"

"What was the outcome? Was that the reason why you and him left Soul Society? Where are you going now?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose playfully, soft laughter suffused the space between them as he clapped one hand over reddening skin, an outraged expression not hiding the slight blush. This youth was the epitome of all they could have hoped for: The bright spark that defies darkness while reconciling both halves. The child she and Kisuke would never have but had nurtured, for their relationship was too strong to be affected by anything else.

A keen friendship not allowing any other aspects, and was the richer for it. How it had disappointed the family elders, who had been hoping for such a favourable match to come true, until both had fled in 'disgrace'.

_We are too much alike. I will not betray what we have for brief, blundering ecstasy, nor taint our clarity with conflicting emotion. This is what preserves us, __Yoruichi__. Your smile… an__d mine.__ That is why I don't mind seeing__ you happy with someone else__, if it should ever happen__. Is it too late?_

His resolve never wavered from the beginning, and she reflected it in kind. Ichigo was as honourable as Kisuke was. For the mature honesty in his character, she bestowed the same amount of frank respect (always freely given to her best friend) upon the young man.

"Confronting my past. As to what happened, that's our story. You'll have yours someday, and whether you choose to tell it is up to you. Don't worry, I'm still your guide until you all leave this place."

"Ichigo! I need your measurements if you're going to get better clothes than those tacky robes-"

Shape-shifting into a cat that blended in with shadows of the night, slit pupils watched a distracted shinigami get attacked by one formidable tailor armed with needles and a measuring tape. Purring in agreement at Ishida's ruthless wrestling tactics, she slipped away to retrieve something back at her lair before heading on to a certain place.

_What was the end? You guessed it. But there was more than I'd be willing to tell you, Kurosaki-san._

0o---------------------------o0

List of definitions

**Benihime**: Crimson Princess.

**Shinsou**: Divine Spear.

**Sougyo**** no ****Kotowari**: Truth of Pisces


	12. Friends?

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are in this font, as they are being remembered).

To make the scenes clearer:

_Followed by words in this font ----Past_

Followed by words mainly in this font---- Present.

**Previously**:

Shape-shifting into a cat that blended in with shadows of the night, slit pupils watched a distracted shinigami get attacked by one formidable tailor armed with needles and a measuring tape. Purring in agreement at Ishida's ruthless wrestling tactics, she slipped away to retrieve something back at her lair before heading on to a certain place.

_What was the end? You guessed it. But there was more than I'd be willing to tell you, Ichigo_

0o-------------------------o0

**Friends?**

_It never rains, but pours._

_A line they'd read many times before, to the point that it sounded corny and practically invited their mockery. Now that the scenario due to such an underlying cause of no holding back was real, the perception was rather different. So was the reaction._

"_Shh… what are you crying for… silly girl…"_

_During that decisive confrontation, Urahara Kisuke had regained control at the most (un)fortunate time._

_Clear droplets fell to cracked earth, mingling with scarlet flecks._

_Loud, raspy breathing that sounded like a cross between choking and nausea came from the woman, whose skin was studded with many tiny pieces of dissolving redness._

_Bits of white clay dotted the ground, as well as a grimy hand. The taller figure's robes were no longer pristine, red spreading outwards where the cloth had been burnt. His hilt was on the ground, lying on top of infinite scattered fragments that had formerly been part of the Blood Mist Claws. The rest of a bloodstained Benihime protruded through her left shoulder. Her left hand was embedded within blood and tissue. Repulsed by the feel, she yanked it out of his gut. A mask was crumbling in his fist. Greenish-grey eyes resembled murky glass panes, as chapped lips remained parted. His furrowed brow of anguish and self-loathing were an apt reflection of her traumatic sorrow. Remembering the times they'd shared such agony… when he was on the verge of becoming a Hollow. When she would have turned into ashes, until he'd expelled all the unstable power._

_She caught him, as he staggered and fell forward into her arms._

_He hugged the lithe figure while preserving her modesty, even as her tears dampened his clothing._

_"I'm sorry, Yoruichi… I cause you such pain again…"_

_It hurt to move. Awkwardly rubbing one hand across her eyes while holding him, gritting her teeth so as not to give in entirely to uselessness, with a minor adjustment she carried him over the right shoulder. Yoruichi had never seen him in such a… feeble state. Slowly stooping to pick up the broken weapon and straightening, she drew on the last reserves of her strength and fierce will. Laughing weakly, she yelled at him._

_"Don't you dare go all mushy. I didn't give you permission to die, and we're going to Kuukaku to patch you up. I've moved the necessary equipment. The human world beckons at last."_

_Other shinigami would not understand. For all she knew, the death warrant had likely been issued for his resistance of 'justice', then attempting to kill a fellow captain. They would fight it. She would not let Kisuke be consumed by the Hollow in him. No matter how long it took, she would aid him in winning completely. Knowing him, he had probably vowed to die, than become a danger to those he cherished. This choice had determined others as well._

_Byakuya, I'm sorry…_

* * *

_Kisuke, you have always been right. He probably concluded that you and I were lovers back then, which is why he was so angry…it must seem as if I threw everything back in his face without caring, and played him for the fool…_

Watching from the rooftop, she observed the young girl attending to the figure lying on the futon, while listening to the soothing words of a worried sibling.

"Nii-sama, how are you feeling?"

He uttered something the concealed observer couldn't hear and then with a rustle of creased linen, the concerned sister departed. A solitary individual was left staring at the ceiling.

She had spied for long enough. It was better to leave Soul Society while her ex-colleagues were not expecting too much from her. _I'm sorry, Soi Fong. _The humans had to return to their world and needed a guide anyway-

"How much longer do you plan on hiding?"

The invalid was now glaring right at her. Even from this distance, his gaze was piercing enough to leave her discomfited. Chilling hostility only encouraged her to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Leaping off slippery tiles and descending noiselessly into the room, she walked over to his bedside. Older, wiser, sadder; she had fully matured into the person her grandfather wanted her to be.

From the looks of it, he might have had a harder time than she did. It confirmed the first impressions of him after all those decades. He had suffered terribly somewhere along the way. If only she could help him recapture some joy, to see those eyes with some semblance of life, as opposed to dull listlessness that hinted of one who was hiding too much in self-defense. Yoruichi felt awkward. She didn't know what he was thinking, but at least she could try to extend some consolation for whatever unknown problem(s) plagued him… as friends normally do.

Sitting down on the recently vacated cushion, both hands were clasped on her lap in a demure fashion as she crossed her legs.

"She's still sweet to you, despite your diligence in sending her to her execution; although I don't remember you having a sister. Just concentrate on recovering and if Ichigo still worries you, he'll be under capable jurisdiction so-"

"You're rambling. And leaving."

Blinking surreptitiously was the only change in her external appearance. Eyes, like dimmed lanterns gazed into a distance only she could see. A gentle breeze stirred gauzy curtains. Simmering fury had been his first reaction on clearly seeing her enter, but now… He could tell she had finally learnt to deceive like everybody else, and it pained him. Anger had died down. She was still unscathed but seemed unusually exhausted, as if the edges defining that unique inner fire had thinned and eroded. _What happened to you all this while…?_

"Your generation has taken over rather efficiently. There is nothing for relics like myself to stay."

A gaze brimming with melancholia drifted towards him, and then retreated. A small smile graced her lips but did not affect her eyes.

"More room for legends to be created, and a chance to fade into a dream. That is life."

_And besides, I have Kisuke. Have. As if_. Leaning forward with each word, for a moment her contentment was real before it vanished. Standing, she turned to go but biting scorn stopped her.

"So you would run away again, from all that made you what you are. You're not the sempai that I respected. You... lied."

Shifting to face him again, her eyes were downcast as she ruminated in silence. Byakuya ached to see the individual he'd known, who was always vibrant and ever ready to react, telling him not to address her as such but there was no explosion. Jet-black pupils widened as he watched the woman bend at the waist until she was halfway bowing towards him. Regretful, infinitely gentler and humbler, her actions induced an uncomfortable tightening in his chest.

"Kuchiki-san, Kisuke was right. I should have answered you one way or another back then, before running off without any explanation. What I could have said before does not matter now. Let the past die-"

Breaking off abruptly, her voice became harsher.

"No, it should already be dead."

She was getting a bit tired of all the people who accused her of lying. Catching a glimpse of shadowy irises that were enlarged due to some incomprehensible emotion, she continued, eyes averted towards the floor once more. It was getting cooler. He needed his rest and she would close the windows on her way out.

"I have never deceived you. He needed my help. His friendship has sustained me all these years. I would do no less for him. If I hurt you unforgivably back then, I can only apologise now. I wish you all the best for the future, and that whatever caused you such hurt will become less bitter with time."

A muffled "flumph" was the only thing she heard and straightening up, was just in time to see him cast aside the thick blanket and leave the futon. Automatically reaching out and ready to support him if he faltered, a hiss of "Silly, what do you think you're doing!" was no deterrence to the hand closing around her wrist.

"What if I refuse?"

Frozen with indecision and confusion, Yoruichi stood there like a gawky adolescent, unsure of what to do next. Byakuya was gritting his teeth, trying not to give in to the sudden urge to give her a good shaking by the shoulders. Hearing that extent of seemingly rehearsed and stiff formality from her had infuriated him (having to mention Urahara Kisuke was even more maddening), and it was a struggle trying to maintain serenity when he wanted to do something… unusual. Not that he could figure out why.

"I fumed over your departure. Mourned over your supposed death. The only thing you can say is 'forget it all'? You- If it wasn't for Hisana, I-"

"Hisana?"

The body in her grip sagged. Tightening her hold, she helped him to lie back down. Cold fingers remained locked around her wrist. He looked so… lonely. Following the insistent tug and her sympathy, she pulled the duvet over him before lying down on top of it, next to him. Respecting healthy boundaries, while giving him comfort.

"Tell me about her. She sounds special."

The only sound for the next few seconds was deep, ragged breathing becoming even. She waited.

"Hisana… was the reason why I adopted Rukia as a sister. Fifty-four years ago, she-"

0o--------------------------o0

**Further A/N**: For those who got this far, you may be wondering why I drafted in Byakuya as a subordinate to Ukitake Juushiro, back when Yoruichi was officially part of SS. There wasn't anything I could dig up about Byakuya before he became 6th Division captain. And in terms of seniority (highest to lowest): Juushiro, then Byakuya and Shiba Kaien (which one higher than the other, not sure), then finally Rukia… I figured it was possible to put Byakuya there, since he does display a slight familiarity to Ukitake Juushiro. So by that reasoning, when he left the 13th division and eventually became 6th division captain, Shiba Kaien was promoted at some point and became VC to Ukitake.


	13. I hear, therefore I know

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are in this font, as they are being remembered).

When I use the word 'man', it's in the context of gender and not (im)mortality.

To make the scenes clearer:

* * *

_Followed by words in this font ---Past_

* * *

Followed by words mainly in this font---- Present.

* * *

**Previously**:

"Tell me about her. She sounds very special."

The only sound for the next few seconds was deep, ragged breathing becoming even. She waited.

"Hisana… was the reason why I adopted Rukia as a sister. Fifty-four years ago, she-"

0o----------------------------o0

**I hear; therefore I know**

"_It's gone. That's good, Byakuya-sama."_

_Looking down at the petite woman who was heaping his lap with sakura blossoms, he smiled. Sunset was a moment where dreams and reality met, a fitting description for his wife. At times like these, he could pretend that he loved her as much as she did towards him… almost._

_Her guilt was a sister he had never met. His guilt was a solace she would never know about. Putting such individual factors together, it made the tormented couple feel more indebted towards each other._

"_Being with you is always a good thing."_

_A small finger was waggled in front of his nose, as she gently chided him for trying to cover up the fact that he had no idea what she was referring to._

"_I meant that indescribable sadness… it was lessening whenever I saw you but even on our wedding day, it still lingered. The anguish of one who's irrevocably lost a cherished secret."_

_Her depth of perception stunned him. Seeing her draw back fearfully, he realized he must look rather wrathful. Drawing her back into a cuddle, long fingers smoothed stray hair off her face. _

"_You never cease to amaze me, Hisana."_

_Feeling her snuggle closer within his embrace, he sighed contentedly. She was almost everything his remaining relatives could have hoped for. They had grudgingly overlooked the lack of noble heritage, not that it bothered him. Now she was something he had, although he wasn't entirely sure about the wanting part. Anyway, he could not have ignored her plight. Neither had he expected this friendship to develop into- In return, she was a long-awaited balm. Demure, dreamy, good-natured absent-mindedness he could not take offense with… a quaint picture of modest bashfulness. Although she was somewhat timid and prone to bouts of touchy sensitivity, that only heightened the fragile dearness of her disposition. Bending down, he whispered something mischievous into her ear._

_For a faint moment, fading echoes of her bubbly laughter was twisted by the wind into something huskier, but no less sweeter in honesty. Like the ghost of fleeting mahogany gracefulness adorned with woven shadow; romping amidst windborne plum blossoms in a carefree dance, and revealing dual flashes of fringed sunlight…_

_He could look back on those memories without hurting so much. The cherry blossoms were gradually healing the void in him, and the future was full of gleaming optimism, even if it was slightly frayed at the edges._

_Until everything came crashing down four years later, leaving him bereft of warmth once more. Winter returned in all its icy desolation._

* * *

Deep sorrow was evident even in his strength. Yoruichi wished she could do something useful, but there was nothing she could think of. Wrapping an arm about his shoulders, a sibilant whisper reached his ears. It was too dark to see her but there was considerate kindness in her words.

"You have people here who need you, like your family and the sixth division. Someday… you will wake up and find another precious person by your side once more."

She was thankful for the lack of visibility. It would not reveal suspicious shininess threatening to spill over her lashes, nor the avid pain etched in every line of her smiling countenance. What a fool she was; absence away from him had not changed a damn thing. The keen pang of shed agony was absorbed by woolen thickness as she buried her face in it. _You've moved on. It's comforting to know… you'll be fine. Your wife didn't deserve to die. How I envy Hisana, that she could do what I didn't- what I can't…making you happy…_

He didn't know how long he had lain there; one arm draped about a narrow waist. Inhaling the scent of damp cold and familiar earthiness and listening to the even, peaceful breathing, long fingers crept up to touch a cool cheek. Why was it moist? Had she been crying? _Why would you do that…_She was half-cushioned on top of his body, using his chest as a pillow.

This woman had always been regarded as distantly ruthless; lethal unpredictability fortified through conflicting rumours by the masses. Labelled as a calculative goddess who feared nothing and did not care about consequences... Yet he could not ever believe a single word of such gossip, because he had seen. And touched. And felt innocent strength that defied the cruel ravages of time and experience to remain pure.

Intimately friendly respect that prevailed from the captains who'd truly known her, were testimony to that.

_Did you understand why I told you about her? Why I chose her? What should be done now?_

Wrapping his arms around her, it was quite some time later before weariness overtook him into slumber.

* * *

So relaxed in repose… moonlight whose edges were misted by wispy fabric, trailed across that heartbreakingly defined countenance. A slim hand rested to experience the slight rise and fall of serene firmness with each breath, and the steady beat of his heart beneath. How her fingers itched to outline the sensual curve of enticingly shaped lips, before she kissed them- No. That was history. Hisana was his present dream, even if she was dead.

Having been somewhat aware of this one, who bumbled from laughing infancy through to an oppressed childhood, then watched his sullen youth mature into the quietly stoic man that he was today… She could appreciate it all; hence she could appreciate him. Never had Byakuya left a stronger impression, while he was so trustingly unguarded. It was unfair, that such an innocuous action was one of the strongest attacks he had… and it was too disconcertingly appealing.

Attempting to push his arm off her waist, the action only tightened his hold. Was that a normal reaction when sleeping? It was so convenient to stay, to watch unveiled vulnerability but… _Kisuke, I'm sorry. You're wrong; I don't have the strength to honestly return what I owe him. The divide between us is one I cannot bridge, because I lost my nerve to do so… long ago…_

Shinigami were not afraid to die. It was one of the tenets they lived by, and the reason why every fight was so important to them. _Savour each battle as if it were your last_, Yama-ji had advised. Strength to convert everything into simplicity, resulting in the utmost basic principle: Exploit each moment to the fullest… It was the guiding light that living was based on. Giving up Soul Society had demanded a hefty price, and the accumulative result was exacted in the changes she had to make of her life. The last hundred years had forcibly reduced her courage to a reticent shadow, taking its invisible toll on other aspects of Shihouin Yoruichi's psyche. Anything regarding this man was complicated, and she didn't have the energy to simplify matters any longer.

Afraid to speak until necessary; reluctant to act until the final moment… Past and present had blurred into watery ink-stains. She would rather die, than allow anyone else to see that cowardly disgrace of her former self. Only Kisuke understood; he never questioned her comings and goings, or their sporadically brief meetings every few years. After all, around him she could be strong, because he required her strength. Hence, it was imperative that years of this illusion of possibility had to truly end with the impossible.

_Byakuya, there is nothing to admire in me. Live by the code and die by it… you will succeed where I failed, for you never flinched in resolution from your path. Your glory will help me endure, especially when I probably won't return to Seirei-tei ever again._

* * *

"Nii-sama…"

Being woken by the bashful tones of his sister was not what he had expected. Slowly pulling himself into a sitting position, he massaged bleary eyes before opening them to look at her.

"Rukia, what are you doing here?"

A shy smile graced her pallid visage.

"I came to wake you up, like you said last night. Oh, and I found this on the cushion."

Extending a small hand, then opening it to reveal unique familiarity resting on a white scrap of paper.

"Nii-sama, who's this from?"

He stared at the bold, black ink-strokes, then at jewelled hairpins. They were as captivating as ever, beneath radiant sunlight. However, a cloud had been cast across his day. There were only two words inscribed on blank finality.

Thank You.

* * *

Order (of sorts) had been restored. Strolling down a side street in the southern precinct of Seirei-tei, he heard raised voices and decided to see which uncouth louts were causing such furore to disturb the peace.

"Ayasegawa Yumichika, stop stalking me!"

That annoyed-sounding tone belonged to the vice-captain of the treacherous Tousen Kaname. His fellow disturbance was an unknown shinigami wearing feathers and a drawl like running water. Byakuya wished somebody would turn off the tap.

"Eh, Shuuhei-san, that's not nice. You don't even know what I'm going to ask for, not that I had planned on bumping into you for the hundredth-"

"Tenth, you dope. Quit exaggerating."

"Even then, you walked into me. It's the tenth time in three days. If anyone does the stalking, it'd be you. Anyway, it's nice to see you're beautifully hale and hearty-"

Such pointlessness. He'd met many officers while carrying out his daily duties, as well as all the vagrants but not once did he see their guide. It was as if she was avoiding him, although the second, eighth and thirteenth division captains complained to each other about her elusiveness that only Yamamoto-dono was immune to. Kuchiki Byakuya had better things to do than watch a piddling argument.

About to turn and leave, the talkative man arrested his attention with the next line.

"Let the past die? That was too cruel, Shuuhei-san. The only way to do so… is to die as well. It's not something we can erase."

The doleful lament reminded the sixth division captain of something else-However, a fuming member of the ninth division interrupted his thoughts.

"Don't take things out of context, you-you-It was just one fight! All I said was to let it go! Stop sounding like a crummy romance novel! What's so significant about that?"

There was effable gentleness on the other's face as he replied his battle-hardened companion (who was practically frothing at the mouth and blushing mildly, emphasizing '69' on one cheek.).

"En, Shuuhei. That is the karmic connection binding certain individuals to each other. Why does the bird fly to the sky? Why does the trout return to its spawning grounds? Why else do we keep meeting without intending to? It is painful to watch the sunflowers reach for their sun, when they will never be able to accomplish their goal. An eternity of futile one-sided yearning is their fate. Whereas we, who are lucky enough to be able to grasp the shared present with our own hands... we are cowardly fools if we don't, when there is no surety of tomorrow. Let us make up for the wretched ones who suffer! We should seize the opportunities that others foolishly squander! Hence…"

By now, the usual aloof fierceness on Hisagi Shuuhei's face had been replaced with a muddled mixture of grudging admiration and amazement. He never knew this long-winded fop could be so dramatically poetic, even if he tended to overshoot the point by at least a mile. Come to think of it, what was his point?

A sly smile distracted him from the fiendish gleam in dark grey eyes, as dainty hands whipped out a concealed zanpaku-tou earlier transformed into a wickedly curved Fujikujaku.

"Let's fight! Allow pretty me to defeat ugly you once more-"

The other man was running like the wind. There was **no** way he would duel again with this fifth seat of the eleventh division, when there was no substantial improvement yet in his own power. Shuuhei made a mental note to self: when colourful sprinkles vanish and those sparkly eyes no longer twinkle like a baby's, it's time to head for the hills.

"Oi, get back here! If you don't, I'm coming after you!"

The sound of fading footsteps left a still figure alone in the shadows once more.

_The only way to do so is to die… to hesitate, when there is no surety of a tomorrow… I won't make the same mistake twice!_

0o----------------------o0

List of definitions

**Fujikujaku**(Yumichika's Soul Slayer): Wisteria Peacock


	14. Swansong?

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are in this font, as they are being remembered).

When I use the word 'man', I'm using it in the context of gender and not (im) mortality.

**Previously:**

The other man was running like the wind. There was **no** way he would duel again with this fifth seat of the eleventh division, when there was no substantial improvement yet in his own power. Shuuhei made a mental note to self: when colourful sprinkles vanish and those sparkly eyes no longer twinkle like a baby's, it's time to head for the hills.

"Oi, get back here! If you don't, I'm coming after you!"

The sound of fading footsteps left a still figure alone in the shadows once more.

_The only way to do so is to die… to hesitate, when there is no surety of a tomorrow… I won't make the same mistake twice!_

0o----------------------o0

**Swansong?**

The moment had finally arrived. Their rescue-and-retrieve mission had ended, and it was time to return to the human world before school started for these teenagers. The central courtyard was filled with people, enjoying one of the sunnier mornings of inconsistent spring weather.

Zaraki Kenpachi was grinning at a nervous-looking Ichigo, while Ikkaku heartily slapped him on the back after telling another cheesy joke. Renji was happily conversing with Rukia and Kira. Ishida was attempting to convince Shunsui of the benefits of changing his robes for something less flowery and shapeless (maybe something with a leaf motif), while Unohana tried not to laugh at how seriously her friend was arguing against those proposed merits. The debate ended when an irritated Nanao dumped an entire basket of petals forcefully onto her captain's head, knocking him into a blissful daze at the same time. Ganjyu was getting annoyed with an enthusiastically gushing Yumichika and vice-versa, causing Shuuhei to try and act as mediator before everything went up in fireworks.

That little pink-haired vice captain was befuddling Chad with never-ending questions. Juushiro was an adorable beet red as Kuukaku teased him about his hair; wait until he found out about her house(s)… Inoue was chatting with Rangiku about recipes involving red bean paste and describing Karakura High School. From the puzzled looks on Hitsugaya's and Hanatarou's faces, they weren't quite getting the concept of inserting straws into packet drinks.

Observing from under the shade of sturdy awning, she was glad that they had all made friends worth keeping and remembering. If any further problems cropped up and help was required where Aizen was concerned, Kurosaki Ichigo was always welcome. Furthermore, she would be the bridge for both sides, since Yama-ji, Shunsui, Juushiro and Soi Fong had tag-teamed together to coerc-er, persuade her to help re-strengthen Seirei-tei. With all the reconnaissance missions, she wouldn't be spending much time in here anyway. Coming back to Soul Society would be no problem for that newly acknowledged shinigami, but as to the rest… Enough delaying. It was her turn to intervene. Rising and stretching stiff haunches, the black cat pottered towards the large group. Her gravel-like wryness captured their attention.

"Done with the farewells, I hope. Let's go to our departure point-"

A huge shadow fell across the small feline, and she could see everyone staring with varying degrees of frozen inquisitiveness at something behind her. Tense hackles rose as she sensed danger. Rukia gave her the biggest clue as to this sudden intrusion.

"N-Nii-sama…?"

Glancing around behind her and having to crane her neck painfully didn't really tell Yoruichi anything, since he had on the same glacial expression that could have instantly solidified hot water. Ignoring everybody else while nodding in acknowledgement of Rukia's greeting, his entire attention rested on furry sleekness at his feet.

"Shihouin Yoruichi. There's something I would discuss with you… in private."

"Just spit it out."

"I refuse to speak to one who's clearly lacking in decorum."

Man and animal stared coldly at each other.

What was it Kisuke had said, about the past coming back to bite one's ass with a vengeance? Glancing around, she could see that everybody else present was shooting puzzled looks their way, while trying not to cower at the suffocating enmity of their combined spiritual pressures. Zaraki Kenpachi however, was looking at her with the creepy smile he normally reserved for Ichigo… Damn. She should have continued restraining her spiritual aura. Inoue was twiddling her thumbs worriedly; the girl was probably wondering if the two were going to fight. Ichigo and Ganjyu had identical 'I smell insanity' expressions on their faces.

If there was such a thing as reincarnation, Yoruichi decided to come back as a plant. Asexuality was so much easier and so was social interaction. She threw a fierce glare at the other people, the sternness of that look warning them not to interfere or eavesdrop.

"All right, but be quick."

Following the man who had turned his back on her and was walking away, the black cat padded after him noiselessly. Finally halting behind the first building they passed, Byakuya whirled around and gestured towards a dead end ten feet away. Pale amber slits shrinking in suspicion, nevertheless the wary feline slunk past him. After a few more footsteps, the sound of his movement ceased. Now she was the one who had to turn around and attempt to figure out what he was after. Being instantly blanketed in mauve softness was the last thing she expected. It was hard trying to find her way out of these troublesome folds, when one did not possess hands. _Has he gone __mad-_

"Change back to your original self. Now."

On top of that, he had lost all semblance of polite etiquette. Well, she couldn't teach him a lesson in quadruped form. Her answer came out muffled as she inhaled a mouthful of cloth midway.

"Don't peek-"

Coughing as she pushed the thrown fabric off her face, Yoruichi was relieved that he was no longer facing her. However, it did occur to the ex-Special Covert Operations commander that he had frequently seen everything on more than one occasion, so the request for preserving modesty was rather… redundant. Hastily pulling the garment on and doing it up properly, she sighed. The sleeves were overly long and this kimono was too roomy.

"I'm done."

Resisting a ridiculous urge to back away from the advancing figure, that only heightened her discomfort and induced her to switch into leadership mode. The younger man definitely had the psychological advantage here. She felt slovenly in appearance, by comparison to him. Neither could she guess his motives and was inwardly off-balance. He was definitely fit to be the leader of the House of Kuchiki, for his air of regal seriousness was starting to intimidate her.

"You want everything conclusively resolved, don't you, Shihouin Yoruichi?"

Oh no, he was still fixated on that night. What had possessed her to ever become involved with this stubborn shinigami in the first place? A splitting headache was probably going to strike soon. Deciding to play along and see where this was going, she nodded.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

It came out as a strangled squeak. Shocked incredulousness was too apparent, as she retreated involuntarily until the wall greeted her back. Putting out one hand to stop the approaching noble, all he did was push that arm down by her side but came no closer.

"You said the past is dead. Prove it. This should mean nothing to you, since our history no longer matters."

So grave… So proud- She could not stand it. Resisting the unseemly urge to panic meant being unable to subdue the sarcasm.

"Killing me seemed more preferable."

A fine black eyebrow was arched. There was the mildest hint of reproach, along with (what could possibly have passed for) minor regret in his reply.

"In light of our history together, was my reaction at the Senzaikyuu really that… surprising?"

"No. Yes. I don't know."

He didn't like seeing her this miffed. Some pacifying might be necessary.

"Seeing you after so long and saving the enemy, especially the way you caught- I mean, sided with him- So I… might have overreacted."

Saucer-shaped yellow irises were staring at Byakuya, as if he'd just announced Ukitake Juushiro's romantic elopement with a herd of goats into the mountains.

"Might. Have. Overreacted?"

"I was compelled to do so, in the line of duty."

She was massaging her temples. A huge migraine was definitely brewing.

"Wait, I caught Ichigo and that's why you objec- As if I'd let him be further injured after cruelly knocking him out! And did I just hear you confess-"

Pale skin around high cheekbones was now suffused with deepening pink, as her next line of incredulousness confirmed the embarrassing revelation he had unintentionally given away.

"You were jealous… of a fifteen-year-old boy!"

He said nothing.

"Granted, Kurosaki-bo may seem rebelliously tempting. But he's practically a baby by our standards. You-you-"

An enlightened Yoruichi didn't know whether to be pleased or stupefied, but she definitely wanted to box some sense into the man.

On the other hand, Byakuya had had just about enough (self-)humiliation for one day. Plus they were meandering rather far from the main contentious issue.

Both sides tried to glare a hole through the other's skull.

It was so painfully familiar- She looked away first, showing a reluctant smile that could not be hidden while shaking her head.

Seeing her relax, he too softened in response. Just recapturing that little bit of awry amusement was oddly comforting.

They were back to square one.

He was not touching her, and standing half an arms-length away. Both hands remained against his robes as he looked down at her. Shihouin Yoruichi swallowed nervously. This was not a scenario she had envisioned or was prepared for. There was no obligation to do so, but… _It was never fair on him. _

Kisuke was right, she owed him some form of honest answer. Still… _Can I really kill everything that happened between us?_ She'd find out.

Byakuya watched the play of changing emotions over agonized features. The only thing that was evident was conflict. Those unique irises held a mild gleam of green, as a weak ray of sunlight fell across dusky delicateness. Then she stepped closer, eyes focused on his mouth. All emotion was gone now, as a small chin was tilted towards his. Sudden fear struck him as irrational. _Am I really going to lose her forever?_

The gentle pressure of uncertain softness on his lips interrupted further speculation on that question.

They did not move. Lips touching, limbs remaining apart, everything seemed hushed. Then he felt a slight shift, as a much greater surface area of warmth came into contact with his body. An opening in vulnerability was initiated, which she readily reciprocated. Their tongues tentatively meeting, then-A slim hand closed about his shoulder as the other went to his waist. A long-lost surge of joy filled him.

Losing herself in the deepening haze of pleasure, she was dimly aware of being pulled closer, cool fingers cradling the nape of her neck as his other hand found the small of her back. _No matter how much I try, I still can't deny-_ Trembling slightly at the daunting mixture of elation and contentment washing over her. A familiarity experienced only with him.

Hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, consumed by the mutual inclination of unsuppressed yearning and tender sentiment, a high-pitched squeal from a cherubic pink-haired girl roused the two out of their bubble of intimacy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to see that!"

Yachiru merrily waved at them, while a battered-looking Makizou was attempting to crawl away from her. Upon catching sight of a pair of yellow eyes blazing with murderous intent, he decided to crawl faster. His little vice-captain was not the least bit perturbed.

"Ikka-chan, Yumi-chan, wait up! I'm supposed to take you three there and meet Ken-chan!"

Grabbing hold of a traumatised friend and hoisting him above her head, she scampered off after a disappearing cloud of dust. The two were left alone in the alley once more.

"About Hisana…"

He could hear the pensiveness in her voice; see the doubt on her face.

"She too has a special place in my heart, but you were always there before her."

Yoruichi opened her mouth again to question him further, but his kiss clarified everything. The sudden sense of relief almost loosened her joints to the point of unhinging her knees. Breaking apart for air a short while later, he whispered hoarsely.

"I don't care about the unexplained past. I need your presence… as much as you require mine."

Breath catching in her throat at the implications, a choked gasp escaped her as his lips found the exposed triangle of flesh, leading up the bare expanse of her neck to graze her cheek. Tasting saltwater, Byakuya stopped. Kissing her closed eyelids, a thumb and forefinger encircled her chin. Perplexed concern gently questioned Yoruichi.

"Why are there tears?"

She could not explain overwhelmingly staggering relief any more than she could embrace the moon. All she could do was give a weak smile. When she'd thought the moon was forever beyond her reach...

"I'm j-just being silly-"

"Shh…"

Drawing her even closer, he was nudging her nose with his. Lips brushed passion-bruised softness once, twice… then recaptured what he had missed so despondently all this time. Curling fingers slipped down to grip his shoulders, as their bodies shifted to seal off unnecessary space between them. Loose folds slid off slim shoulders. Threading her fingers gently through black hair, she pressed her mouth hungrily against his.

Lean fingers slipped between the seams of oversized clothing to close over the curve of her hip. Moving along the arch of a sloping spine, shallow dip of a small waist… Her body was flattened against his, as their kiss became more intoxicating. Unintentionally undoing barely concealed propriety, while inflaming growing possessiveness-

"Ichigo! If the Eleventh-division captain doesn't kill you, I will! Tossing Rukia again, you dumbass sonofa-"

Skidding to a halt on worn cobblestones, the vice-captain of the sixth division blinked as he looked to his left. A bright red blush coloured his cheeks, the vibrant shade clashing with his magenta hair. Was it possible for the earth to immediately open and swallow him up? Nevermind the seductively dishevelled allure of the woman, whose body was shielded from view by the man who had turned slightly. The spiritual aura of his captain had suddenly become intensely suffocating and from the menacing glint in those jet-black eyes, he might be seriously considering bankai-ing his fuku-taichou into oblivion.

"M-my apologies, Kuchiki-taichou…"

It was amazing how much fuel Fear could add to speed.

"Byakuya, I have to go now."

She couldn't delay, or else she might never want to leave. Those children would need guidance, and she had promised Kisuke to return. Plus, there was still a dangerous traitor and his plans to deal with…Torn between bittersweet aching and responsibility, she could see the same torment reflected in the grim lines of his face. The insistent pressure of his body against hers told her how much he wanted her, a craving that she was having extreme difficulty restraining oneself from reciprocating on the spot.

He could wait. He would settle for nothing less after this, as all those painful years had taught him.

"I'm the most selfish of men. I want it all… Kuchiki Yoruichi."

While tracing a gently sloping jaw-line, his fingers were caught by darker ones that brought his hand to rest against rounded softness of her cheek.

"Keep the hairpins properly. I may want them back."

Then she was gesturing for him to turn around. Long hair mussed, clothing partially undone yet standing there with such regal poise; still exquisite, still endearing… still his. Lowering his eyes respectfully, he complied. Several seconds later, a non-descript black cat paced past him. Stopping in its tracks, saffron mistiness met night-black gentleness.

Then it veered right around the corner and was gone.

Looking up at scattered clusters of unblemished clouds, he noted the soothing manner in which they were streaked through with radiant sunlight. Picking up discarded clothing, straightening his robes and walking out of the alley, he turned left to head towards the execution grounds. The outsiders still had to be sent off. Byakuya also had a mountain of reports to go through in his office. Later, he would take Rukia to visit her sister's grave.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

**Owari**

_**A/N:**_ From here, it splits into 2 parts. There's a possible future AU that does not cater to the manga but whimsical indulgence, and goes for 3 chapters. Then after that, it's one chapter to tie back in with the manga. Both parts have nothing to do with each other.

Trivia: Ended up completing a full circle of sorts throughout this fic. Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring. Incidentally, that last season is what's currently happening here. Hm.


	15. possible AU epilogue part une: Moonrise

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in Italics denotes personal thoughts. Possible ellipse abuse.

"The rain set early in tonight." is quoted from Robert Browning.

For these 3 chapters, it is a possibility that exists only in my imagination and fanfic, so well… enjoy the impossibility of this actually happening manga-wise ie a time of them being husband and wife in the future.

Much love and thanks to all the reviewers who've read up to this, especially Celira. Your concrit resulted in tweaking. Past!Hitsugaya has been replaced by Young! Shiba Kaien, along with all other necessary editing for improved smoothness eg. Renji's speech and thoughts. (Goats. Juushiro. Now wouldn't that be interesting art? XD)

**Possible Epilogue part une: Moonrise**

_No matter which way you look at it, the moon doesn't change in its continuous cycle. That beacon of scarred ivory isn't fatter, flatter, rounder or duller, no matter your angle of viewing. It's only your perception that alters inconsistent refraction of the lens. _

Knowing that didn't change her conclusion: the luminous crescent seemed to be sulking, rather than smiling. Or was it another nonsensical mood…

"The rain set early in tonight."

That poetic line elicited a smile. A cream woollen cloak was draped about the slim figure. Turning her head to look at a pale hand lying on her left shoulder, her right hand closed over it. At the same time, his right arm drew her nearer. Leaning back against assuring comfort, a gust of wind rustled paper lanterns hanging from the edges of a freshly shingled roof. He felt her shiver.

"Be careful, you might catch a chill."

Relaxing in the circle of his protection, her head rested in the snug embrasure beneath his chin. Tweaking his nose playfully, her teasing voice reminded him of a restful afternoon.

"Don't forget, I'm not that weak."

Fingers--as beautiful as a sculptor's-- were splayed over the curve of her belly. There was plenty of good-natured humour in his reply.

"Don't forget, you're not the only one now whose health I worry about."

She huffily snapped, "That would be your fault. If you hadn't acted like an uncompromising brute…"

"If you hadn't been so sinfully clad and wilfully performing that dance to purposely madden me…"

They stood there in the back garden, admiring Tsukuyomi's touch among blurred shadows and peaceful silence. Apart from the sound of water trickling over smooth rocks and the occasional line of song from a nightingale, all was perfectly serene. His left hand slipped downwards to cover unmoving fingers curled around a green bamboo flute.

"Given up on the koto again?"

"No matter how hard I practise, the music will always be lacking. Besides, I'm not that great with it. Aren't you supposed to be tone-deaf?"

Nuzzling her cheek, whispering in such an intimate manner made her shiver for an entirely different reason.

"You compensate for my inability. Doesn't sound like the sempai I know. Attack of pessimism… over Aizen-san?"

Long lashes sliding downwards, she nodded. That traitor and his followers' whereabouts were still undetectable, after his armies of arrancar had been defeated and he'd managed to escape once more. Waiting for him to make another move was too much like a game of cat-and-mouse, not that the Gotei 13 had any choice, since he was virtually untraceable at this stage…

"We'll eventually exterminate him. Worrying doesn't accomplish anything, even if you can't help it."

Turning her head further to the left and raising her chin upwards to murmur slyly against his lips, "Must you always act older than me?"

His right hand rose, fingers flattening along naked skin of the throat and up to the base of her right ear. Warm breath ghosted over parted vermilion softness.

"Must you always attempt misdirection?"

All conversation ceased.

He pulled her closer, as mild distraction became dangerously addictive. The type that led to discarded clothing, loss of inhibition, then absolute abandonment for mingled passion and heated murmurs of loving (in)coherency…

Breaking heady contact before it spiralled out of control, shaky laughter spilled into the night.

"The servants might see… and your cool-to-the-point-of-frost reputation will be lost."

The only sign of change was one straight eyebrow crooked in mock alarm at unusual demureness.

"Are we changing our tunes?"

Lowering his head once more, an agonisingly slow path of yearning was traced down sloping vulnerability with his mouth. Feeling a distinct shudder racking the woman within his embrace, that reaction induced an upward quirk of thin lips.

"Hm… I think it was officially lost ever since our wedding night. Still…"

Pulling back, he allowed her to recover some normality in breathing, even as he strove for a reasonable measure of composure.

"What were you really thinking about?"

The problem with habitually taking work home: There was never really a difference between off-duty and on-duty behaviour. Something Yoruichi was used to, where her over-responsible husband was concerned, but life under a constant microscope could be really annoying. This was one of those times.

"Kuchiki Byakuya, don't treat me like one of your subordinates."

Not a good time to ask her about that flute and its significance. Must be one of those moods that came with hormonal changes. Someday, he would thoroughly question his wife about what had really induced her to leave with a certain man. She was lucky Yamamoto-dono had agreed to pardon her for her previous actions of leaving Soul Society and whatever else she'd done after, but on the condition that at most, she could become a combat tutor in Soul Society and was disallowed any official rank or duties. Byakuya was considering requesting that the Shihouin clan be officially allowed to redeem and continue its glorious lineage, provided he and Yoruichi have more than one son. In a way, he knew it was not that important to her, but for the sake of her grandfather… However, that was for later possibilities. Relenting for the moment, he decided to take care of her health first.

Reflexively clutching him for support as her feet left the ground, she stared into flame-shaped eyes. Damn her luck for choosing this stubborn, complicated, persuasive man who had more layers than an onion… but could vary understanding and deliberate obtuseness at the right times.

She fastidiously tidied the collar of his robes, as he watched her seemingly random ministrations. One of many little things she did for him, and it was these 'trivialities' that added up to remind him how much he valued her. "Having a wife more temperamentally powerful than yourself must be intimidating, Kuchiki-taichou," Hisagi Shuuhei had remarked. Byakuya didn't bother to answer, since his spouse had done so unintentionally. The ninth division captain had been extremely respectful after that light sparring match with her a few months back. His squad had to look for a new dojo, as the old one had been rendered… non-existent.

Besides, he wasn't about to explain their private dynamics to anyone. Having someone who could provide an alternate opinion and was able to see both sides of the coin, yet still pass reasonably fair judgement was an asset. Discussing all types of topics with an equal who understood was always refreshingly enjoyable, even if certain disagreements did tend to get… dangerously explosive. Not to mention the courage to stand up to him and knowing when to employ cunning wiles instead of direct arguments… life was never boring around her.

What was that expression for? The way he was looking at her was enough to make her blush. Did he have to get overtly intense? She was one of the few shinigami not intimidated by his spiritual aura but still…!

"You're doing it again."

There was peevish accusation in her voice. The "stop-making-me-melt-inside-before-I-have-to-pulverise-you" tone he purposely ignored. Fixed gaze roaming over exotic features framed by long, loose hair, thick-fringed eyes like preserved sunshine… and down to her temptingly dishevelled neckline. The temperature forecast for tonight said something about being marginally chillier than usual, hm…

Seeing the slight gleam in those eyes vanish to be replaced by absolute darkness, the manner in which he was studying her with such… suppressed intent only made it even more obvious. Her cheeks felt hot, just thinking about the implications. This was embarrassing.

"Are you going to continue standing there and carrying me?"

"No. You're shivering. What cruel weather. I'll have to keep you warm all night."

Hiding her face in the side of his neck, feeling his hold tighten and the fleeting brush of his lips against her temple as he began heading back towards their abode, she finally raised her head to look at the wide expanse of inky sky dusted with infinite stars. The shakuhachi flute was still grasped in her left hand, and amazingly intact. Sending up a silent prayer to those distant lights, her thoughts returned to the topic she didn't tell Byakuya about. It was probably the only issue she didn't bring up with him, knowing how he felt about that person.

Her skill with the koto was mediocre. The only way the music could sound complete would require playing accompaniment of the flute's owner. Her flaws would be bolstered and beautified by his, and vice-versa, with a man whose friendship she missed very much. Looking at the moon and being reminded of their shared philosophy only deepened hidden melancholia that seemed to burn a cavity in her chest.

_Someday, we'll meet again. Until then, keep yourself and the others such as Ururu safe. Whoever completes the circle first doesn't matter, but I'll try to help your case… so that you can come back to me… _

o0----------------------0o

**Next up**: **Intermission**. What was the scene, which led to Byakuya and Yoruichi 'arguing' about it? Heh.

Definitions

**Koto**: Zither. About 180 cm across, with 13 strings and stretched across 13 bridges to enable 13 base pitches.


	16. possible AU: Intermission

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts. Possible ellipse abuse.

And now, the scene a few months back, that caused a little discussion in the garden previously...

**Intermission**

Wandering down the corridor while clutching a thick novel with one hand, Byakuya crossed to the small table where a bunch of purple grapes lay in a leaf-shaped porcelain bowl. Plucking one, he studied the plump globe glistening with moisture, hinting at refreshing juiciness once tasted. Then he glanced back at the latest reading material.

Yoruichi had a knack for finding odd fascinations. This book came from the human world, and had pictures of funny-looking people in weird clothing to accompany the text. Interesting though, about a princess --from some unknown place called Arabia-- who told all sorts of stories to try and save fellow women. A thousand and one nights of inventiveness? It sounded impossibly daunting and although he would not admit it, he was hooked by this-this Scezera-Sheheza… damn the ridiculously long name… Scheherazade's tales. Reminded him somewhat of his wife, though. Speaking of which, where was the impish woman he'd married a month ago?

Brow wrinkling slightly, he looked out through a large, circular embrasure scalloped with rust-coloured marble tiles and into the relatively small side garden. Feathery fronds lazily tickled the edges of their boundaries. The lone cluster of trees he liked to look at reminded him of a family, judging by their close proximity and manner in which trunks were bent, as if huddling together. A fetching blend of green, brown and snowy whit- _Swaying what?_

The grape was forgotten.

Mouth partially agape, his ideas about strange and unappealing clothing was drastically reversed. He was hyponotized by undulating sinuousness doing a slow, sensuous dance while turning to face him, both palms pressed together above her head as if pointing to the sky. Drinking in the visual provocation of gauzy silk concealing but not masking the curves of her breasts, her smooth shoulders and navel were left bare. White billowy pants hung from slim hips.

Watching the precarious rise and fall of feather-thin cloth on skin with every sway of her hips, he could not properly complete any thoughts. The gleaming allure of brown skin with a seductive sheen, blessed by the afternoon sun… at other times it had been slippery with perspiration as she arched beneath him, savouring the salt-tinged pleasure of their unrestrained desire. What looked like a tiny ornamental dagger extended from the small, jewel-encrusted bauble on her belly button, dangling to point towards-

He had not yet exhaled. Forcing his gaze further upwards and away from the distracting sight, travelling higher until- She had leaned forward slightly. A flirtatious smile adorned those lips. Slightly bitten, gleaming subtly as if they had been licked, begging to be kissed… they parted to reveal a purple globe between white teeth. Tilting her chin up as if in supplication, she swallowed the luscious fruit but the rapturous expression crossing her face… as if she was reacting to something far more intimate… a sharp jolt of desire immobilized him.

A bout of raucous, husky sweetness reached his ears as she started laughing.

Sauntering towards him and taking her time, Yoruichi was veritably amused. Her husband was still holding the uneaten grape as if he'd forgotten what to do with it. So fixed, so still… so attentive. Belly-dancing was attractive after all. Scratchy softness from the end of the white-and-gold scarf that hid coiled hair brushed his hand, as she took the neglected fruit from unmoving fingers. She wouldn't tease him. Eyelids fluttering downwards as if in a dream, the lone grape was offered up to him… with her mouth.

As if in a daze, he lowered his head. Bending to take the grape from between her teeth with his own, their lips briefly made contact as he swallowed it. The expression on her face altered into mild worry. Murmuring while fingers stroked the air, as if caressing his cheek and forehead to wipe off sweat but not touching him, her wistful tone was filled with wonder.

"You swallowed without chewing. What if a tree grows out of your ears and nose and mouth?"

Mischievously flicking the long end of the tasselled scarf in his face, her departure was halted by a hand clamping about her wrist. Yanking the temptress back against him, one sharp tug tore loose the flimsy cloth binding her hair. Her book lay abandoned on the table. He'd had all the taunting he could take. Capturing her mouth with his, cool fingers entangled in the unravelled mass of wavy hair… he wanted to re-assert his marital rights immediately on the spot. Greedy, trying, starvation could never be appeased and was always lurking, as need was so strong that it burned. Reciprocation in the form of wicked passion and inviting contours moulded against his body wasn't helping.

A second scarf fluttered down to join the first one pooled on the ground.

"N-no… stop… servants…"

Damn her. He would exact revenge.

Abruptly scooping her up until she was bundled over one shoulder, he strode down the rest of the corridor. An outraged shout echoed throughout the entire east wing of the mansion.

"**PUT ME DOW-"**

A hard, warning slap to her rump was his response, along with what could have passed for quietly menacing humour.

"Don't push it."

Muffled thudding sounds grew louder as a group of servants and guards came running around the corner. They froze. If it were anyone else, the incongruous sight of a man bearing a half-naked woman (her arms crossed) like a sack of rice might have been funny. As it was their master, his aloof, imperious attitude coupled with formidable spiritual pressure made it seem… normal. Like it was something that happened everyday, although the intimidating aura and fixed line of compressed lips spoke otherwise.

Icy attention rested on them. Breaking into a cold sweat, parting to make way and bowing until they were bent over three-quarters of the way down, everybody else did not dare to look up until it was certain he was gone. Nobody knew what to say to one another, although the gossip this time would be scandalously juicy. Not to mention the results of any fool daring to eavesdrop on the master bedroom in five minutes' time.

"I-I think he's t-thawing."

The speaker got a reprimanding slap around the head.

"Don't say it here! In the meantime, Kuchiki-dono's forgotten something."

Keeping an eye on the departing people while hidden among leafy boughs, Abarai Renji remained crouched while absently rubbing the frame of his visor. What he had seen… he didn't know what to say. Wanting to find Rukia and ask her to go visit Hinamori with him, this had been an unexpected turn-on.

He didn't know whom he wanted more, the man or the woman.

_Damn Byakuya. Damn Yoruichi. Damn my undecided longing._ Renji needed a cold shower and hot sake.

0o---------------------------o0

Dishevelled purple sheaves sprawled across rumpled sheets, her knuckles skimmed over sleek muscle as he moved lower. She could not get enough of him, once they started giving in to each other after their little games. This gave her time to catch her breath- A gasp was barely stifled, as his mouth closed over one nipple and began sucking hard on it while pale fingers stole over her belly to head downwards.

His lips, his hands, his surety… She could not think. She could not breathe. Only react like a mindless beast of desire, needing again the frank appreciation of her entirety as he re-established what they could never stop wanting. If he was the musician, she was his instrument that he could manipulate flawlessly while becoming hopelessly entangled…

Reflexively opening her legs for him, she granted him entry that he was jealously possessive over. Woe would betide the man who infringed on his territory. Kuchiki Yoruichi knew better than anyone, how protective her husband could be. A drunk Kyouraku Shunsui had accidentally given her derriere a friendly pat with his drinking flask two nights ago. Despite her attempts at pacifying, were it not for an overly apologetic Nanao and Juushiro interfering, Byakuya would have ensured the removal of his head with Senbonzakura.

**(1) **Then she was losing herself in the heady mixture of lust and love as his mouth covered hers, muffling their cries and providing dizzying distraction.

Another one of numerous journeys that they sojourned in together; from flying, to floating, to finally recovering the senses…

Lazy, hesitant, close-mouthed kisses between the couple further sweetened this restful moment. The closeness of his presence was all she wanted, something she would not mind having. Forever.

"I don't hate you."

Mussed hair spilled across his right shoulder as her left hand slipped beneath his chin, inducing him to look at her. His reply was just as serious.

"I know."

A bit of light-hearted sentiment was injected into the restful atmosphere.

"Besides, I test the waters from time to time. Lets me know when you'll want to be rid of me-"

He pulled her towards him even as she snuggled closer, until he could see the fine lines of each eyelash. Yellow met black and stayed. The deep affection evident in his countenance was mesmerizing.

"I'll never tire of you. I…"

To see the blossoming curve of that irresistible joy… the sweetness of her lips against his was soothingly invigorating. Cupping her face, returning the heart-warming gesture with usually hidden tenderness, chapped lips curved into a smile. There was something he wanted to tell his wife.

"I love you."

Purple strands tickled his shoulders and arms, as Yoruichi looked down at the man beneath her. A finger lightly poked the tip of his nose, and was accompanied by mock annoyance.

"What took you so long? I nearly ran out of patience!"

That elicited a husky chuckle from him.

"But jokes aside, I love you. Just that I'll express it differently for now…" she whispered. Then she was gone from his line of sight. Feeling the giveaway play of her fingers over his stomach as her breath warmed his thighs, Byakuya groaned.

To be so blessed… fate was truly kind. And he would not mind spending all his tomorrows with her. Always.

Then everything else was forgotten, as they were both caught up again in Today.

* * *

Next up: Possible epilogue part deux--- Sunset

**(1)** denotes the censored section. As before, if you're sufficiently mature, go to my profile and click on the relevant offsite link for the full version. Thank you.


	17. Possible AU epilogue part deux: Sunset

**Disclaimers: **Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**Sunset**

Making a toast to the starless sky, only a faint sliver of moon could be seen. Did milk taste better in a different form? He would ask his best friend that question, except she was no longer around again.

Aizen Sousuke had gotten what he wanted, but at least the merry band of rescuers had returned alive and their mission accomplished. Kurosaki-san had been understandably furious at his predicament and were it not for Yoruichi intervening and tending to the little details, Kisuke was certain the youth might have been spoiling for a fight to the death. She had helped before things became a real mess, something they were both used to.

What he couldn't get used to though, was her return to Soul Society this time. Before, he could predict what she went there for and when she would come back; little details he didn't worry about but now… it was different. Staying only for one night before leaving again- The new bamboo flute broke in his tightened grip. Reaching for the 300 ml bottle of lukewarm Sapporo sake to wash away the cloying blandness of that viscous liquid, he took a deep swallow of the mild alcohol.

Hm, it was unusual. Self-pity and a carefree nature like Urahara Kisuke's did not go together. Perhaps it had to do with the awkward minutes they'd spent together before her most recent departure.

_Did you solve your problems?_

_I did. Kisuke, Yama-ji and…others… Seirei-tei needs my aid. They are greatly weakened by this terrible turn of events and with this recent message-_

_I understand. You have to leave. Go with my blessings and be careful._

_Kisuke…_

Not looking around, even as the gentle pressure of her hand came to rest on his shoulder. She should have stayed in feline form. That way, he wouldn't have turned his back on her, to try and avoid seeing pleading emotion in those quixotically endearing features. He knew. Her happiness was waiting to reclaim her. Part of him rejoiced, even as an innermost portion of him shrank and crumbled.

Best friends would not deny their valued counterpart. Listening to the sound of soft footsteps, muffled footfalls carrying her away from him... It was the only night that clocks didn't matter, and neither did the world around him. Then the next day, it was back to business. Trying to rein in Jinta, attempting to make Ururu less timid and teasing Tessai not to slack in manual labour as he did the paperwork. Kurosaki-kun would constantly drop by, and so did Sado-kun, Ishida-kun and Inoue-san… adding more interesting distractions to his days.

It was good that way, so he would only be plagued by thoughts of her at night.

_Snap out of this, it's not beneficial._

Playful advice that had been traded back and forth in casual banter was now only a dull self-reminder. Merely memorable whims of their earlier days, just like everything else. The childish glee she displayed upon swiping his piece of stewed conger eel and running off, him in hot pursuit until they fought themselves into exhaustion. Testing out his latest advancement in glue with her hair, resulting in a cropped haircut that wonderfully distinguished the mischievous imp from everyone else.

What was with this funk? It wasn't as if she was abandoning him permanently, or throwing away their friendship. Excessive knowledge and intelligence couldn't deter useless emotions, though. She made everything else seem livelier, exaggerated versions of themselves. The one time a blushing Kisuke found himself in a compromising position during one of their frequent tussles, he'd been first to declare his honest intentions. Seeing open admiration on sunny innocence and her smile… he would do anything to preserve it.

As time went on, that conviction was severely tested. Sometimes, he wondered what preserved him in the role of 'steady harbour of neutrality'… was it to keep them both safe? Probably. Habit and time had made it so convenient, potentially unstable alterations would not be welcome. Between his tiresome research, daunting missions and irksome politics of the upper brass in Seirei-tei, he couldn't handle any more trouble--He created enough for himself. Thus, the melody of their friendship never wavered. There were no openings for any changes.

He'd closed the avenues; she'd kept them shut.

The presence of a third party was the binding seal.

The times he'd been **this** close to introducing a new element to their relationship had always been around extremes. Seeing her asleep on a grassy knoll after a long, draining day, peaceful countenance entrancingly vulnerable and her lips... They'd been ascending the official ranks of Seirei-tei then. When he'd held her after that hellish battle, even as she wept for the wound she inflicted due to his own weakness… They'd abandoned Soul Society together. As she stood there, unguarded and appealing to him for understanding and some form of objection, he did nothing. And she'd left him.

He had betrayed her that last time, by not being frank.

It was for the sake of their sanity. Ever the accommodating friend, he played his part dutifully, but he had underestimated the stakes. This time, she might not be coming back… of her own free will.

Free will could be such a painful thing.

But it also led to the most unique, unclassifiable memories.

Like the first time he'd witnessed Benihime's true materialisation.

Relatively humanoid in appearance, black mussed curls intertwined with rose-coloured paper was twisted close to her scalp, with two long skinny braids trailing down the back. Lash-less, pupil-less eyes and dishevelled robes a deeper shade that matched those plain ornaments, arms hidden behind the waist like a bashful child… Yoruichi had to deck him across the head so he'd stop gaping. The zanpaku-tou's spirit gave the impression of a small maple tree brought to life. This rag-clad street urchin was the epitome of a hazy verge between adolescence and adulthood, and that impish giggle in response to his best friend's request to start the deadly experiment…

How could he attack such a frangible-looking thing?

Then multiple fragments of weakness from his soul had appeared, laughter vanished and the unearthly sprite gestured for him to begin.

Rust red, reed-thin; overly long fingers resembled razor-sharp metallic joss sticks reversed in prayer, not giving her any trouble or awkwardness with grasping a sword--while additionally clawing out painful results in close quarters--as she lunged towards him. The crimson aura now surrounding this… girl gave tattered robes magnificence akin to living, breathing fire. Seriousness made her much older than that youthful face appeared to be, and increased his confusion. But at least the urge to be kind was gone.

It was too easy to forget Yoruichi was anxiously watching out for him.

With each broken weapon, Benihime would utter a single sentence of wisdom.

"Without the urge to crush me, you'll die."

And he would respond.

"I'm trying."

Then that thin face would lapse into a strange smile, and not give a totally unrelated reply in that sexless, ageless voice of hers until another sword was broken.

"Stop trying to hit me, and hit me already!"

"Your nagging's as annoying as Yoruichi's!"

Amidst the cruel dance of brutally drawn blood, fleeting sharpness of vicious pain and improving adeptness at gauging and countering her moves, they were gradually coming to a poignant understanding of each other. Her mystery was overwhelming, and absolutely engaging to all the senses.

When the Tenshintai fell over into the dust, Kisuke nearly gasped in horror. Then he realised everything wasn't over yet, but merely a brief respite.

Although he couldn't understand why Yoruichi was prone to scowling, or waspishly frosty whenever she talked to him during that period of achieving bankai.

And it continued the day after; stalking grace laced with cunning danger, watching each other too intently and greedily making nonsensical observations, more verbal exchanges to build a bridge of indeterminable materials, and- It was not helping. She was pure poetic beauty, when skilfully defensive. One half wanted to prolong this utterly fascinating experience, the other half wanted to shred his opponent into bloody spatters all over the dusty ground. Besides, there was the limitation factor of 'detriment to self' to consider… Harm himself, and it would indirectly affect his zanpaku-tou's soul.

Byakuya had gotten off lucky, without having to be so savage towards Senbonzakura, by using the usual method (if what was surmised about that zanpaku-tou's spirit might have been like, was true).

Careless intimacy had been unexpectedly rewarding, towards the end of the day. Nails lodged within his flesh but missing all the vital organs and main nerves, she'd whispered the secret of achieving bankai with this method. Shocked into ending the deadlock of their blades, he'd instinctively sliced off her left arm in the process to put more distance between them.

Hearing a soft whimper, seeing an expression of pain crossing deathly pale features as his opponent stiffened… Yoruichi's shouted reminder was the only thing keeping him away.

Day Two ended rather abruptly, and he still couldn't fathom why his best friend was even more temperamental than usual.

Staring at his zanpaku-tou as he relaxed alone in the hot spring, Kisuke was considering everything he knew. Last night's dream about its spirit was not helping. Unspoken interaction with mutual responses, impossible intellectual fantasy and finally, amazingly vivid passion… Finish the experiment, and all he'd be left with was bittersweet oddness. One bridge would be crossed, but another burned. After all, when true understanding of self had been achieved, what need was there for further consultation, except remembering from time to time?

Burnished metal gave no answer. But after much musing, he knew what to do. All resistance to his original purposes was gone, even if a melancholy ache lingered.

Day Three was much shorter than anticipated. But it was also the most stressful, especially when his blade accomplished his goal. Fragments of her weapon falling to the ground, spindly fingers wrapped around the hilt of the true zanpaku-tou that he had recognised and buried through her heart… his Benihime looked up at him, supported against his chest. Eyelids wavering, trembling fingers reached for his face.

"I miss that shade of green…"

He'd forgotten the underlying issue about his eyes.

Watching the warm light dim in those closing eyes, he told her.

"I'll remember."

Their chaste kiss had been every bit as sweet and revitalizing as the dream of their togetherness… until he was holding a lifeless dummy in his arms once more, glowing zanpaku-tou jammed through its stocky body.

After being roughly smacked around the jaw and shouted at for molesting a priceless Shihouin artifact, he didn't see a surprisingly angry commander for three days.

Women were too hard to figure out.

Although thinking back, Yoruichi had said the same thing when he'd personally ascertained that the Hougyoku captured his success, and after they'd abandoned Soul Society, prior to this alternate bankai theory.

_I miss that shade of green…_

Benihime. Yoruichi. There was a promise to keep, and as to irreversible change that couldn't be rectified… trying made up for it. Or so he hoped.

Hence the hat. Depending on the time of day and darkened with the shadow cast by the brim, his eyes might look like its original hue for a short time. His clothes were poor imitations for compensation.

Fingering powdery smoothness of worn koto strings, he was looking at the moon and remembering their shared philosophy about it, while musing.

_Someday, we'll meet again. Until then, keep yourself and the others such as Yamamoto-sensei safe. Whoever completes the circle first doesn't matter, but I'll try to find a way to be re-accepted into Soul Society… so that you can come back to me…_

0o---------------------------------------o0

Definitions

**Hougyoku: **Precious gem containing Urahara Kisuke's technological secrets on how to merge shinigami and Hollow to form a true hybrid.

**Tenshintai: **Life-sized doll from the Special Covert Operations unit, capable of drawing out and allowing the Soul Slayer's spirit to solidly manifest in the real world.

**A/N: **Regarding Kisuke's eyes, think back to the my theoretical cause for that chapter of 'Shihouin Yoruichi Vs. Urahara Kisuke'

Sorry about the long wait. Many thanks to you reviewers that told me what you liked and didn't. It was heart-warming to know that people really appreciated this fic. What I wrote about Benihime and Kisuke's bankai here is pure imagination, so don't take it as canon, apart from the 3-day time limit. The next chapter to tie in with the manga will be the last for this fanfic, unless a magnificent brainwave inspires me to continue.

* * *


	18. The glass is half

**Disclaimers**: Bleach is the sole property of Kubo Tite. I only own this fanfic.

**A/N**: So I had to borrow some elements from the previous chapter for this manga tie-in ending. As a way of thanking the reviewers and for the long wait (Due to plotbunny plague), I wrote 2 chapters, 1 of them being this ending. As for the other, see bottom of page. And yes, many thanks for the reviews. It's good to know that this story was so wonderfully received.

Words in _Italics_ denotes personal thoughts (hence scenes of the past are also in this font, as they are being remembered).

When I use the word 'man', I'm using it in the context of gender and not (im) mortality.

Spoilers for chapter 194 and 195. Setting is between those 2 chapters.

To make the scenes clearer:

* * *

_Followed by words in this font---Past._

* * *

Followed by words mainly in this font-- Present.

* * *

And finally... 

**The glass is half… **

Did this one have to look like a granite sourpuss?

That hat was seated exceedingly low on his head so she couldn't see his eyes, but a frown was apparent in the lower half of that face, as his hands deftly applied bandages over the green gunk of medical concoctions…

Tessai and Ururu were looking after Orihime, Ichigo and Chad while using potent ointments. When the specially accelerated healing of their injuries was sufficient to be passed off as an accident from sports, those children would be accompanied back to their homes.

Those invaders were frighteningly powerful. Being able to wreak this much harm without even trying… Nevermind the foul-mouthed arrancar, whose skin had been so dense that her blows did not even do serious damage. It was the other frailer-seeming, smaller arrancar who was truly worrying. Single-handedly destroying Kisuke's shikai-level strike without blinking, relaxed despite facing the possibility of fighting both her and him… the enemy's soul slayer had not been reached for, not even once.

A particularly hard tug, as he finished doing up the bandages distracted Yoruichi into glaring at him. What was he so ornery about? Besides, this alarming development had to be discussed-

"You should have been more careful."

"About what?"

Both hands remained on her left forearm.

"Kisuke, you know I can't read your mind, especially when you're about to throw a tantrum. Careful about what?"

She really had to stop baiting him out of habit.

"You should have taken her and avoided the blast."

Why wasn't he being his usual infuriatingly calm and logical self?

"Let's see. Hitting that rude giant hurt more than expected, and nearly numbed my left arm and leg. Plus I trusted you to dispel the Cero."

"If I hadn't been in time, you would have died."

It wasn't time for smacking tactics yet. Grabbing him by the shoulders and giving them a mild shaking, leaning forward until yellow eyes could peek beneath the brim of that dratted hat… there was something unidentifiable in that unshaven face. It was definitely more than worry and useless angst, since he was so worked up. And if this man didn't open up soon, Yoruichi was going to… do something. She just had to figure out what that would be first.

"Don't be foolish!"

Seeing a usually merry expression now replaced by pursed lips and a deep crease between arched eyebrows, along with unveiled irritation… such familiar words. Different tone, different meaning, different time and different place, but his induced sentiment was unchanged. Anger warred with guilt, as he silently berated himself for Yoruichi's condition, while remembering something else.

She always roused his protective instincts --sometimes to the point of overbearing-- leading to exasperation on both sides. Dwelling on the possibility of how close she had been to dying just now, was having an unwarranted effect. This current inexplicable feeling was so strong that it was… confusing. There was a faint parallel though, to the time she had left for Soul Society to help save Kuchiki-san, with her own goals to accomplish. Despite knowing those teenagers needed her guidance, he had wanted to beg her to stop. And convince her he'd been wrong; that unresolved issues should be left to rot into nothing with time.

And… hold her.

And where had that come from?

Insanity. Hadn't he gotten over those crazy urges in the last hundred and fifty years?

Judging by this moment, apparently not.

Seeing dusky features smoothen out into puzzled concern, and how gentle her grip had become… reminded Kisuke of another.

One who had previously been reencountered during an afternoon of intense meditation a few weeks back, whereby he had somehow retreated into a queer state of being neither asleep nor awake…

* * *

**(1)**_Drapes._

_Long strips of gossamer billowing from a ceiling of unending darkness, there was a breeze that seemed to be playing hide-and-seek with him. And where did this undetectable source of light come from, wreaking havoc with the shadows to create faint phantasms that snuck around like wisps of doubtful imagination?_

_His lungs felt constricted though, on seeing a lone puddle of distant darkness that didn't move, and was larger than the rest. Making his way towards it, so quiet that it would be nigh impossible to hear him- _

_And there was impossibility._

_No braids this time, but hair still artfully twisted up with rose-coloured paper, tattered floor-length robes a subdued fuchsia while seated on the ground, holding a scroll and brush… she turned her head._

_The silence seemed to stretch on forever._

_Stepping around, dropping to his knees so he wouldn't tower over her petite form, it didn't reduce seemingly quizzical innocence. Or the strange expression that flitted across her face, on seeing him doing so._

"_Kisuke-"_

"_Benihime-"_

"_What are you doing here?"_

_That last question came out at the same time, causing both to start laughing._

_She answered first._

"_This is the border where conscious and subconscious meet, hidden deep within your soul… where else would I be?"_

_He didn't know how to reply but before he could, she returned to her task._

"_A zanpaku-tou's soul prevails as long as its owner. Suspended between life and death, I'm not real… compared to her."_

_Glancing at the parchment she was working on, he saw a female whose back was turned. Trees, flowers, birds, a river, and the night sky was studded with stars; a wine flask toppled to lie on its side and was quite unlike a gleaming white tower in the distance… The message had never been clearer._

"_For the sake of submission, I killed you once. Are you asking me to do it again?"_

_Stubborn fixation on her drawing was starting to become annoying._

"_No. I'm asking you to end your stubborn loneliness."_

_Why wouldn't she look at him?_

"_And who will end yours?"_

_The brush was still._

"_Please leave."_

_Odd break in her tone on the last word gave it away._

_Forcibly restraining a small chin even as she started to move backwards, tilting it up revealed averted eyes gleaming like wet autumn leaves. And the sight undid a secret he'd buried for so long, dissolving the lock. _

_One arm slipping behind her back, he leaned forward. Only for a spread-eagled hand to separate their faces, extensively sharp nails like the bars of a prison._

"_I stabbed you before…go away!"_

_Sliding his fingers between hers to close over a skeletal-thin hand, the barrier was lowered._

"_And I remain unafraid. Because I knew you… I…"_

_His free hand slid up to tug out stiff paper, letting long black hair fall loose. Bloodless features now contorted as if in pain, pale lips parted but nothing came out. Her Kisuke didn't understand. If the unthinkable was true… even then, it should not be allowed to fully materialise. Besides, there was no future. Nevermind her own selfish dreams; he deserved better, before this became irreversible._

_Then why wasn't she clawing some sense into him, instead of waiting for him to advance closer?_

"_D-don't be foolish." _

_Forgetting to exhale, she stared at her fear._

"_Enlighten me."_

_Then his lips were pressed against hers._

_Both sides didn't move._

_His hand was so warm; thumb stroking the curve of her left ear while the other fingers cupped her neck._

_Eyes still unblinkingly open, the sensation of his mouth on bare skin was… Closing her eyes and allowing her head to fall further to one side to rest against firm support, her left hand holding the scroll lay limp against the ground._

_And when he stopped, she didn't like it._

_So she kissed him back._

_Interlaced fingers brought to one side, unsuppressed exploration finding the openings to each other's clothing; all this only heightened their absorption in each other, one thing descending into another…_

_It was only a matter of time before the drawing was forgotten._

* * *

Unfortunately, he couldn't forget what his Benihime had asked of him, after that period of indescribable contentment. Part of that request was now almost too near for comfort… and something else. 

Eyes hooded and that stony silence… she wished he would say something. Yoruichi hated it when she couldn't recognise his mood and right now, he was definitely incomprehensible.

But being this close to him… so temptingly close that if she fully stretched her tongue, she could lick his lips, only brought up issues that she had hoped were fully resolved after returning from Soul Society this time round.

Judging by this moment, apparently not.

So much for being older, wiser… and more decisive.

Mulish perplexity… had he ever been like this with **her**?

Remembering the phantom she hadn't thought about in decades, plus associated feelings that had started everything similar to that of a "Gordian knot", it wasn't good. It was like regressing back to the days of silly covetousness, where Kisuke was concerned. Wanting something you probably couldn't have.

His 'rival' was real, but how could she compete with a ghost… of himself?

* * *

"_So what, if I did surpass the limitations of a normal shinigami?"_

"_That means you can become two assholes at once!"_

_Watching the blond-haired man retreat backwards, hearing guffaws that reminded one of huge bales of hay rolling down a hill, and seeing the zanpaku-tou's spirit give sufficient pause before re-engaging him in their duel once more… it wasn't fair._

_It had taken Yoruichi months to elicit that rareness, and years to ensure its continuity without his walled pretences, yet was easily achieved by this one in two days. Pure, unadulterated humour that was honest, and totally without false gaiety Kisuke was only too naturally talented at faking, even with others when necessary. Aware that her jaw muscles were clenched at seeing them exchange those little smiles, for the… She'd stop counting after the tenth time._

_And since when had those two agreed to progress into brief and pointless banter, when the danger of this experiment to her best friend increased with time?_

_When Benihime skewered him with her nails, the shock was agonising. _

_No. Kisuke wouldn't be so careless. He-_

_It had been gleefully satisfying to see him lop off that skinny spirit's arm._

_But was spoiled by realising he was about to run over and possibly- Shouting at him to stop was barely effective. She had to end day two now. But that look on his face, on seeing his enemy stagger backwards while clutching at a cleanly shorn stump… Two different types of expressed pain that were somehow similar._

_And Yoruichi was discovering new emotions in ascending intensity. From uneasiness to loathing, rising to resentment and an oddly burning bitterness, and eventually falling into… Being around Kisuke (unless necessary) was too much antagonism to be endured, during this period of achieving bankai._

_It had been a relief, to see him fatally impale his opponent with true strength that had been located and established. Multiple duplicates of enemy and tool vanished._

_Then it had turned into a newly discovered nightmare of sorts._

_Seeing a kneeling man clasp the faltering thing so… So. So- kindly, the gentle manner in which dangerous nails touched his cheek, the slowness with which his hand slipped beneath the back of her head… and the swiftness with which he tenderly kissed a willing girl. _

_Hand pressed tightly over her mouth, Yoruichi couldn't bring herself to look away. Like a sucker for punishment, when she herself didn't know what her crime was… And it hurt. Hurt beyond imagination, as if someone had sentenced her nerves to an eternity of being dipped in boiling oil._

_Seeing him smile strangely as he finally stood up holding the Tenshintai- Socking Urahara Kisuke had prevented the tears, until she had run off far enough to let them fall._

_Despite being repressed, this unforgivable memory lingered, like a festering wound. Lurking and tainting the hidden recesses of her heart, niggling agony eventually spilling over to certain perceptions of the world around her… She didn't know how to define it. But she definitely wanted it gone. So she began to explore, searching for a remedy in others. Many years later, Shihouin Yoruichi unwittingly chanced upon a possible cure. And certified it within the last visit to Soul Society._

_However, why couldn't she be sure enough to cement its permanence?_

* * *

"Kisuke…" 

It came out as a croak, as she stared at eyes that did not leave hers now.

His expression had softened, an unusual glint in those darkening pupils and lips quirking slightly.

From then onwards, it felt like reality in a dream. Slow. Unstoppable. Indescribable.

Eyes closing. Lips touching. Tasting. Chaste; yet hoping, yearning to go further-

It was impossible to tell who pulled away first.

Staring at each other, raw emotions were so painfully exposed for interpretation… but resultant chaos from the kiss was enough to guarantee that neither side trusted their judgement enough at this point to even try and draw a reliable conclusion. Not with the ghosts that haunted them, one of the most threatening phantoms being uncertainty.

One hand adjusting his hat back to its normal position once more, he stood up.

Not daring to glance down, too unsettled by everything that had happened today, especially in the last five minutes, Urahara Kisuke needed space to calm down, and think, and, er... try to figure out how he was going to look her in the eye the next day. Or at least someday. He cleared his throat. VERY loudly.

"Rest. When you've recovered sufficiently, we'll talk about this. The fight. I'm going to ah, check up on our patients to see if they are ready to go home!"

_Benihime, I tried as you said. And now I know. I know that…_

He left, hastily pulling the sliding door shut.

Muted from the aftermath of being thoroughly obfuscated, Shihouin Yoruichi buried her face in both hands. The next idiot who told her that 'being older meant wiser' was going to get booted into the nearest dustbin.

Complicated. Confused. Cranky. Perfect ending to a perfect day. If everything was thrown into a baby's rattle and fiercely shaken.

She wanted to know.

He wanted to know.

Nothing was clear at this point, when definition was so sorely needed. And the only thing that stood out at this point was not helping.

_Can't I have both?_

Who said life never resembled a manga?

**Fin**

* * *

**A/N: (1) **denotes a separate spin-off for the memories of Kisuke and Benihime. If you wish to read and are mature enough to access it as with the previous 2 censored chapters, go to the 'Skerries of Dreaming' link in my profile, then follow the bunny hole titled "Man and Sword as One." 

**14/10/2005**: Forgot to add (for the anime watchers): Benihime's true form has never been shown. In this fic, what has been described of her as a person is only due to imagination, and is not canon.

Will only make little changes that need to be done in-chapter, as the anime comes out with the colour of certain characters' reiatsu, what with all the upcoming battles. Otherwise... Thank you for reading and reviewing this story.

* * *


	19. Omake 1: Empty or Full?

**A/N: **2 years after I finish Tag and posted the final chapter on 26/10/2005, guess who's crazy enough to write an extra chapter to try and complicate things, like Byakuya and Kuukaku having something to resolve? This chapter is moving towards dissociation from the previous chapters, in trying to adhere to the manga canon.

This is also to lessen the rustiness, since I owe squidgeesushi Juushiro/Kuukaku at some point and am working towards warming up for that piece. Currently, my mind is blank.

This is set in the time when Yoruichi and co. have returned to the real world, after Aizen Sousuke departed for Las Noches. Oops, uploaded the wrong draft of this chapter -x-facepalms-x- This should be the correct one.

My thanks to all the readers and concrit I have received over the course of this fanfic.

**Omake 1: Empty or full?**

The sound of breakage was surprisingly not annoying.

Countless ceramic shards lay in the tepid brown liquid that was pooling in numerous gaps between honey-coloured floorboards. It was the only sign of disorder in an otherwise-spotless office. Painted in an unforgiving shade of white, the staggering amount of papers and files kept in cabinets far outnumbered the pieces of furniture and personal touches present. The large, roomy desk was as bare as Yamamoto Genryuusai's scalp, save for the shadow falling across it. A shadow that was cast by an outstretched hand, preserved in the aftermath of enjoying the minor chaos it caused.

The other hand held a letter; a piece of paper that had him yearning to dance and punch something at the same time. The first letter ever since the vagrants had left Soul Society. Between the endearments and the brusqueness, it was one of those unique combination traits of Yoruichi. Her words flowed like honey spiced with vinegar, giving him hope for the future while reminding him of a past unresolved. Her memory was as prevalent as his, and her values equally so. At this point, her main focus in the letter was bringing up a sour taste in his mouth. Mentioning the time after Aizen Sousuke had just been rescued by many Menos Grande was not helping. Two particularly strong women were so similar and so secretively protective of each other, which is why… gngngngngn.

Byakuya was once again seeing that side profile of a woman who had finally deigned to give him more than scant acknowledgement. An eyebrow made more imperious through initial lack of reaction, the graceful curve of her neck highlighted by the caress of carelessly combed hair, the striking contrast of night-black lashes and eyes against smooth skin that carried a hint of the fires she dominated-

Once upon a time, he would have considered this train of thought as allowing too much nonsense. There were more reports to check through and after that, clan matters to handle. These women were the same: a waste of his time.

But now, it was different. Yoruichi was back in his life (no matter how sporadic the exchanges were), not some memory that he mentally hurled stinkbombs at. And she had made some rather good points in this letter, all thanks to a certain sickening senior who mentioned the incident to her. Even with the input from this letter, no matter how much he had once detested the ex-commander of the special covert operations, it could not match up to his memories of... _her_.

* * *

_Much was irrelevant at this moment, as the searing agony from being stabbed by Shinsou felt quite the opposite of cold sweat soaking his skin. Vaguely aware of being held by someone and realising that it had gotten rather noisy, Byakuya forced his eyes to open._

_A boisterous shout caught everyone's attention; nevermind that the ground shook. There was enough dust to create substantial islands. Something large must have just arrived._

_"Yo, Yoruichi!"_

_Perched on Jidanbou's back, stray sunlight glinted off white teeth in a mischievous grin, as "back-up cavalry" arrived. A spark of pure pleasure seemed to leap from one face to the other, then steady up and blaze brighter to be reflected in unabashed response._

_"Kuukaku!"_

_There was something about the confidence in both deviants that was rather inspiring, although Aizen Sousuke probably found their cockiness to be very annoying. After all, it was this type of spirited defiance and strength that empowered the rest of his former colleagues to continue the pseudo-heroic aggravation called "struggle on and preach like banded minnows against the tide, while pitifully unable to understand or aim for true greatness". That egoistic diary he'd left behind (and they'd found later) went on for too long about the subject._

_But with time and the Hougyoku finally in his grasp, he had mentioned eventually enlightening them… or using those people as nourishment for his army, as he decimated Soul Society and Earth to become king of the heavens. _

_For now though, retreat was his chosen move. And to allow Soul Society to recover as best as they could so that they could muster up enough resistance later, in order to entertain him in every last desperate second. _

_Yoruichi sighed. She had failed in Kisuke's objective, but at least Ichigo and his friends were alive. Seeing that everyone was being tended to, or tending to someone/thing/matter, the former general of the Correction Corps looked around for the one person who would most likely try to do the same thing as her: sneak away._

_Maybe not, for Juushiro had managed to intercept Kuukaku and was obviously attempting but failing to persuade her to join forces with Soul Society. But at least she hadn't bolted. As long as he did not bring up a certain subject-_

_"Juushiro-san, shoo! And I need a private moment with you. Now."_

_It was not until the two women were facing each other, that-_

_"Shihouin Yoruichi, I get to yell your ears off first, for charging up here without even asking me to cover your ass!"_

_Smiling, Yoruichi only wiggled her eyebrows in turn, both amusing and exasperating the friend who had taught her how to do that. They could almost be twin peas in a pod, if not for minor differences such as skin tone. _

_"Kuukaku, it seems Aizen Sousuke managed to retrieve what Kisuke was dreading. This means that we're going to need-"_

_She trailed off mid-sentence, yellow watchfulness following a steely-eyed gaze… over to the wounded. And stopped at a person who was holding his sister's hand, while the captain of the fourth division meticulously took care of his wounds. From the looks of it, Kuchiki Rukia was extremely distressed, while Unohana Retsu was all bandages and delicate concern. Two women with different stations in life were united by the same anxiety over this man… or was it? _

_"Anyway, thankfully it wasn't a total loss. Nobody's dead, and why don't you pop over there to greet Unohana-san? Didn't you say she hasn't seen you in ages? Good friends are hard to find, and even more sorely missed." _

_Steely solemnity flickered back to Yoruichi, and the shift in mood was ominous. Easy-going amiability was gone, arms crossed and rigid, dignified poise emphasised by a ramrod-straight back and unflinching chill piercing enough to make anyone squirm beneath its focus. It was at times like this -when she was unmistakably the fiery leader with a temper to match- Shiba Kuukaku was absolutely insufferable, because everything withered in the path of scorching frankness._

_"Don't be ridiculous."_

_Not when the other was the one being ridiculous. One thing Yoruichi knew was that her friend could not do coldness like Kisuke, and the more detached she appeared, the more affected she actually was. However, that also heightened the urge to be cruel in order to compensate for the inability. Ouch. He'd always teased about how alike the two rebels were, and how easy they were to handle… until one of them flipped the predictability switch. _

_"Is it so hard to give a simple greeting? Or is it too frightening to chance, with her current company, that-"_

_Clipped hostility ended the discussion and vanished with rude swiftness. _

_"Retsu's busy. And I have no patience to be near __**that**__ arrogant jackass." _

_It was understandable that not everybody liked Byakuya, but the particular amount of venom in her tone was puzzling. After all, from what Yoruichi knew, Kuukaku barely interacted with him. Smoothing back a loose tuft of hair, an abandoned comrade frowned. A talk with Juushiro was imperative and if it yielded nothing, then she'd have to do an unpleasant confrontation. Besides, it was impossible to determine which Kuchiki was more abhorrent to the Shiba clan leader._

_After all these decades, it seemed she hadn't forgiven the girl… or was it something to do with him? It wasn't good for Kuukaku to be such a stubborn nutcase with a grudge, and Kaien wouldn't have approved. Anyway, time to vanish. She was not needed. Stop thinking about Byakuya- Oops, Shunsui was blocking her way, and so was-_

_On Byakuya's part, he found that being forced into inactivity was somewhat wonderful. But there was always the call to duty and responsibility somewhere in the back of his mind. And he now understood and appreciated his vice-captain even better than before. Despite the extent of his injuries, that Renji had enough enthusiasm and energy to ensure the sixth division was functioning smoothly. _

_An incapacitated captain however, did not know how to express gratitude. It came in the form of granting receptive politeness to his vice-captain. Then Rukia stopped by, and the two friends got down to healthy bickering. _

_Seeing a vulpine grin tinged with glee as his little sister spluttered for a comeback to a tongue-in-cheek retort about her terrible origami, Byakuya could not hide a smile. With a temperament that complimented the deceptively brash personality, Abarai Renji was definitely destined for great achievements. Not that his captain was about to admit the young man was a compelling presence to deal with, what with radiating a zest for life that was equally magnetic and irritating at times. _

_For this subordinate, all he required was a bit more time and experience to help temper ballsy cockiness into a finer blade. To eventually witness the flames of impulsiveness glow until they simmered with knowing precision bordering on defiance, yet possessing a hidden gentleness that was even more alluring for its elusive- No._

_Once upon a time, that had not been elusive. _

_It had been freely demonstrated by a young woman whose direct openness was as unlimited as the blue skies. Not forgetting the way she easily wrapped her brothers around her finger (or fist, depending on the scenario); there was one who could have ascended the highest echelons of Soul Society with ease, also due to formidable potential that had supposedly once hooked even Urahara Kisuke's scientific interest. Yes, with talent that threatened to surpass an older brother who had finished the academy in two years instead of six. _

_And laughter that was not sickly saccharine-sweet or hoarse crudeness, but earnestly roguish and riding an undercurrent of tantalising promises... Byakuya had been felled from the very beginning by her punch. _

_Not intimidated by his rank or bearing, increasingly annoyed by the confusion he was helping a thirteenth-division captain to inflict on a brother over whether to get married, exasperated by "prissy stuffy shinigami" and spoiling for a spar… that action had forced Ukitake-san to restrain amusement until it became a violent bout of coughing. Byakuya agreed, primarily for indulging the urge to teach her a lesson._

_And she was fast, not as quick as Shihouin Yoruichi but just as dangerous. A certain Shiba clan leader had looked horrified at the amount of damage occurring to the surrounding woodlands (or was it the number of times his sister came close to striking the Kuchiki heir?), and finally intervened. That earned the brother a sharp thwack over the head, a cheerful admonition of not knowing when to be heroic and Byakuya an outstretched hand as a conclusion of peace._

_He did not have to take a second glance at massive craters, burnt soil, fragmented rock and broken trees for a decision. Amazing, that she did not have any kind of formal training and was still able to... Grasping it, she'd surprised him with a firm handshake and then towed him off towards their house for a short tour of the rooms where she made fireworks. A veritable whirlwind that captivated and puzzled, and she made bearable the guffaws from Ukitake-san about 'inventing the perfectly-frazzled-cross-eyed-deer look'. _

_She was definitely unforgettable. And realising with the foresight that she had the potential to become a dent in his armour... By the time he'd made up his mind not to allow it, an opportunity popped up for him to do something incredibly stupid and stay safe._

_At Kaien's funeral, he merely said one line about 'him being foolish for choosing to die' to Ukitake Juushiro. Rukia hadn't been there, but Kuukaku definitely was and within earshot. The shock on a sickly captain's face was not surprising, but the lack of expression as she turned her head... Clad in white, she spun around and slowly walked towards him. _

_The resounding smack of her palm connecting with his cheek interrupted what everybody else was doing. She had damaged more than his pride._

_"Get. Out."_

It hurt. Byakuya instinctively reached up to rub his cheek, even though that had been so many years back.

Shiba Kuukaku had slammed shut the doors quite a long time ago, but in light of what Rukia had told him about her recent visit to that household to make amends… Maybe it was time to try and mend the fences again. Besides, he owed her for that remark.

If Hisana were watching over him from beyond, what would she say?

Funny, how it always took aggravating stimulus to bring everything flooding back.

Fingering a daffodil-yellow piece of paper with random leaf prints scalloped along the border, he closed his eyes. Maybe…

* * *

Trying to keep Soul Society functioning without three captains was difficult. But that wasn't on his mind, as the thirteenth division captain used shyunpo to place a package outside a certain door of a house in the middle of lush green fields, knock and vanish just as hastily.

Seeing Byakuya so badly wounded, plus the fight with Yamamoto-sensei had made him remember all over again that life could always be cut short. Yoruichi and Shunsui had encouraged him again, while happily shouting that there was never a right time, but only the time that one was given. Maybe, in time, when Juushiro could work up enough nerve to be more direct instead of silently devoting himself from a distance… In the meantime, he'd have to start somewhere. Even if it was in the lull of an impending war with the Arrancar.

Remembering the contents of the package and how it had been created before his good friend and her merry gang departed, one could not help but smile. Yoruichi was a genius, especially when it came to reluctant helpers changing their tune.

_"I can do this by myself, shinigami! There's no need for you to interfere, or your clumsy paws will get dirty fingerprints all over this exquisite material."_

_"Really, Wincy? Yoruichi-sama requested my input, no doubt with the likelihood of you screwing up the finer details. And do I spot a white hair? Right there-"_

_"It's __**Q**__uincy! Don't touch! And I have a name, feathered fop. Is 'Ishida' too difficult for your chattering tongue to pronounce? If you suspect my tailoring skills, I'll have you know that my credentials are-"_

_"Do I care, when your sulky childishness can't even comprehend impeccable loveliness in the name 'Yumichika'? Do not tread on my territory, and- Watch where you stick those pins! My hand is not a pincushion!"_

_"Serves you right. Ow!"_

"_Spoke too soon, you- Ouch!"_

_"On the pride and honour of the Quincys-"_

_"By the divine beauty of this Shinigami-"_

_**"I will out-stitch you!"**_

* * *

Sticking the pipe back into her mouth, a weary craftswoman appeared in front of the door. She had sensed a familiar reiatsu. When it came to fireworks, she would rather be the one creating, not receiving. Besides, she was still not certain about helping.

The first time Kuchiki Rukia had showed up for forgiveness after the whole Soul Society mess, Kuukaku had listened, considered what Juushiro had re-mentioned a few days back and decided to tell her the truth. It was clear that the shinigami still suffered, and Kaien wouldn't have wanted that little lady to be blamed for something that wasn't her fault.

Besides, it wasn't hard to realise that being a stubborn grudge-pig was anything but reasonable. To cover up this awkwardness and uncertainty over how to react correctly, she had responded in her usual manner: disruption. A gentle box to the nose was a surefire way of recovery, especially when the person had the ability to make one feel worse through repeatedly sincere remorse. Rukia was too good and easy about apologising, which was quite the opposite of a certain captain. Odd, that remembering something like this brought a strange sense of sorrow, almost advancing into regret?

However, a second visit from the girl (on behalf of that person) had been a lot more trying. The plea for a chance of forgiveness had been almost rude in its shocking abruptness. After a bit of verbal parley, Rukia had made it clear that her older brother did not know what she was doing here, and that the information had come from-

Damn Ukitake Juushiro!

This time, it was the silver-haired captain who received a somewhat incensed visitor. His first answer was annoyingly practical.

"From the significance of Aizen's betrayal, war is brewing and our world is at stake. Before that arises, we will need as much cohesive strength as possible, since we are already greatly weakened."

What did this have to do with telling Kuchiki Rukia about that incident at the funeral?

"What would Kaien have done in my place? If I'm not wrong, some sort of peace has to be made before you'll listen to any appeals. And it won't do any good if either side refuses to consider the option. We need all the help we can get, even if Yamamoto-sensei won't admit it. Rukia was only pointing out the possibility, since she was the most appropriate mediator in this case."

He was good, this blasted friend, who always went on about peace. Deftly evading names and using "mediator" instead of stating the more obvious reason, Soul Society could not have found a more skilful spokesperson. Forgiveness for an adopted sister did not extend to the brother, as they were two entirely different cases.

"What would Kaien say to you in these circumstances, Kuukaku?"

What would he say? He would have been a factual pain-in-the-ass and told her the same thing as Rukia. Except the frankness would always scald, just like that time.

Noticing how his younger sister's friendship with a certain noble had started out so amazingly well, Juushiro's ex-vice-captain liked to indulge in gleeful teasing. In one of those moments, she had playfully asked her beloved brother for an opinion of what the 'good friend' would think about her. But both knew he had been married and was probably still in love with his dead wife. Besides, what interest would he have in her other than friendship?

"You? You're fine as a friend. From what I know, he's probably the type who wants a demure and impeccably sweet lady to run his household without disagreement. You retort back and irritate almost everybody on a somewhat regular basis; you smoke, wear airy skirts instead of long flopping gowns, stride instead of glide, don't really do quiet or meek, indulge troublesome mischief and use swear words when the mood beckons. Me, I love everything about you, sis. Him, though-

"Are you alright? You've gone sort of quiet and uh, hey, I was just kidding! I wouldn't really know!"

Managing to muster up a smile and divert her brother's attention, they then laughed over other matters. However, she couldn't forget, not when his words had almost induced the queer urge to cry. But how could she be angry, when everything Kaien said or did was always in earnest concern about his siblings?

Then the incident at the funeral had happened. A man who cut everything using one line of cold scorn, while betraying the friendship her brother so cheerfully valued. If she had a soul slayer, she'd have lopped off that one's head. She didn't understand why Byakuya would say that, but it didn't matter. As it was, such cruelty meant the end.

It also helped to lessen the recent agony over the double blow of losing her beloved brother and sister-in-law. Having to cope with the terror and pain of a little brother, being thrust into the role of clan leader and… it had been too much. Never would she allow such a thing to happen again. Ganjyu must be protected, and she had to get stronger to do so. This led to their house constantly needing renovations, as she experimented and trained and continued helping Yoruichi and Kisuke, only with one difference. They did not stay in the same place each time renovations were needed.

That was life.

Picking up the package and shaking it, she went back to the giant chimney behind the house. And continued messing around with whatever she had been planning to do to greet the sunset.

A pile of paper was messily stacked on her right, several pages already covered with scribbles and sketches. A pipe, eraser and pencils had been shoved to the other side, so that nothing was in front of her except for a silver tray. On it sat two plain porcelain cups, a small saucer of dried prunes and a little blue teapot spotted with the occasional white cloud amidst three birds floating in serenity.

It was that time of the day when shopkeepers would be packing up, and the delicious fragrance of dinners being cooked would suffuse entire neighbourhoods. But not when one was seated on a raised platform, surrounded by endless fields of wildflowers and grass, far from any town or village and lacking in appetite. She'd given everybody else the day off, by making it clear that she wanted solitude. She missed her brother so much, and was in one of those moods. And by moods, it meant scrunching herself in one corner, instead of the usual central position in front of the towering monument that was also a silent tribute to her brother. No matter how tall the funnel was though, it could never reach him.

Today, Shiba Kuukaku did not appraise the sunset, mourn over her brother or admire the towering funnel crafted from her skill. She had opened the package, and was wearing it. Sort of. She contemplated the garment covering her right arm, which draped over the shoulder to trail down wide steps and onto the grass.

The floor-length robe was breathtaking, for incredibly soft silk had been hemmed with exceedingly fine thread work. Roomy sleeves flared out from the elbows down, and the bottom edge eventually swept the ankles to resemble the resting wings of a crane. A binding sash and glass buttons had been concealed alongside inner earth-white lining. Such workmanship was poetry in colour. The sleeves dripped orange amber that melted up into sunlit blue, then tumbled over into mellow daylight that gradually blossomed outwards into a rosy dawn, and finally pooled in blood.

She had never received something like this before, a gift so luxurious, extravagant and… impractical.

Her best friend would have grinned at her stunned silence and said "one could always find a use for it." How so? Yoruichi would have been far better suited and used to this. Heck, any woman with better grace and wholeness than Kuukaku could have worn this masterpiece. Besides, such beauty was more likely to soften one for all the wrong reasons, and it was a price she couldn't afford.

Not when she remembered that there was a younger brother's safety to ensure. Knowing Senbonzakura had wounded him had been frightening but oddly enough, Ganjyu had shrugged it off. And the doctor had mentioned that although injuries had been numerous, the flesh wounds did not include vital organs, and the blood loss had been moderate but normal for such an extent of damage.

The dangerous owner of that sword was confusing her, especially when the inferred intent from such an outcome did not correspond with what she had heard about him over the years. Put together with what an exasperated Juushiro had told her in their previous meeting? The recipe was ideal for birthing a headache.

"Kaien insisted on fighting that dangerous Hollow alone to avenge his wife. Being the sister who knows him so well, you would agree: only his pride or his life could be saved. It was my fault for bringing Kuchiki Rukia along, when she was too young and inexperienced. And her fault was being too concerned for her captain and vice-captain, hence defying orders to return and being forced to kill for survival. Despite comprehending the terrible odds against him, he made the choice and we did not interfere… until it could not be avoided. Depending on whoever looks at this, a man can be brave, honourable and foolish at the same time!"

It was as if the often-ailing shinigami had seen into her heart and mind. One man had chosen the infamously stubborn Shiba pride for justice instead of life. And she had accepted the irreversible choice as necessary, but not without cursing and weeping and occasionally lambasting her dead brother as cruelly stupid for that final action, thus leaving behind the siblings who loved him. A mourning sister sometimes wished she could forget the virtue that carried to extremes, could also be a fault. Juushiro had figured out Kaien's character from the very beginning. Byakuya might have had a point.

Glancing at the note accompanying the package, she smirked. 'Secret admirer', her foot. She could recognise Juushiro's handwriting any day.

Tomorrow, they were going to have a talk, whether he would like it or not.

Half-lidded eyes stared at the brilliant blend of colour enveloping her shoulder, but did not see it.

Then the minute ripple was felt. Spiritual pressure had been subdued until it was virtually non-existent, but could not be hidden from one with a sufficiently high standard of training. Although a cooling breeze still lingered, the busy whine of insects had been reduced to almost nothing. The birds were silent. And uncomfortable concentration -from a gaze boring into her bare back- only caused a left hand to reach up and tug rich cloth more securely over the right shoulder, until the artificial limb was obscured. How many captains were going to visit her today? The nearing intruder did not seem hostile, but hesitant.

She did not turn around, choosing to reach for a half-finished sketch instead, followed by a pen.

* * *

Had Kuukaku sensed him? She must have, with that pause and the slightly jerky movement that wrinkled a rather magnificent robe. Reaching the circular flatness of elevated cement and wood, he stopped. Then ascended the steps and continued until his shadow fell across the little cluster of stationary. Crumpled brown paper next to the table led him to guess that the cloth might have been a gift from somebody.

He waited. She continued sketching. No reaction from either side.

"About your brother…"

All that answered him was the scratch of a nib across paper.

"I am sorry."

The tip snapped.

"Which one?"

Momentarily looking at his feet, he resisted the urge to scratch his nose.

"Both."

Silence.

Silence.

Sile-

She rose to stand in one smooth movement, then turned around and stalked over, eyes flashing defiantly and cloth billowing out behind her like a one-winged general. Or perhaps it was the fading sunlight and his courage. One finger jabbed his chest, brazenly/foolishly/amazingly going where no man, woman or child had before.

"Is that all you have to say, jackass?!"

Cool fingers closed around her other wrist, stopping the swing.

"You've hit me often enough. And what else do you expect?"

Good question. What could she expect? And why was he even here, anyway?

"You're right. I wouldn't expect anything from a high-horsed shithead like you. Why you're even here is a mystery. So get lost-"

Fingers immediately tightened, threatening to snap her wrist in his anger.

"You swear like a cesspool, you moved so recklessly without caring that beautiful cloth work might be wrecked, you- You haven't changed."

This prissy boar must be harbouring a death wish to behave with such authority, when he was on her territory- Her temper flared from the muck of too much that could not be forgotten, along with years of buried emotion.

"What nerve! You insulted a dead Kaien, nearly killed Ganjyu, show up uninvited to say one pathetic line without- Only- And then- You're crazy enough to expect forgiveness just like that, you arrogant prick?!"

The sixth division captain could feel the tremors racking her body via his hold on her wrist, as if attempting to reel herself in or about to explode. They were close enough to count the eyelashes each other had. By now, she must have known that he had followed duty but spared Ganjyu at the same time but even then, her purely protective emotions were running high. He couldn't really say anything else, so he went with the truth. Besides, he himself was on the verge of exploding.

"Yes. I expect forgiveness."

Shiba Kuukaku was definitely going to kill Kuchiki Byakuya in a shower of fireworks. Oh yes-

"Because it's been too long, and I want you-"

Blue-green eyes widened.

"-to forgive all the pain I've caused you."

Her ears must be betraying her, even if she'd nearly misinterpreted his words. The earth seemed to sway. This humble-sounding person who might be looking a mite regretful was not the noble who had spoiled their friendship. To use words like- Unbelievable. "You don't need forgiveness! You- Alright, where is Kuchiki Byakuya, and what have you done with him?"

Thin lips curved upwards in amusement, lessening the terse uneasiness between them. His grip relaxed, but did not release. His next words were almost painfully earnest.

"I didn't say 'need'. I hope you will forgive me, Kuukaku. Er. San."

The verbal one-up had her turning her back on him. She stopped halfway, as the other shoulder of Juushiro's gift was pulled up to cover her left bicep, a hand resting there. An expressionless Kuukaku turned back towards him. A certain spark had taken hold inside, and the devil it birthed was-

"Very well."

Her sudden shift into formal speech was oddly familiar and made him pause. Until she kicked his ankle, slipped away so quickly and took off, a radiant mischief-maker beneath the setting sun.

"YOU &#$ BRAT!"

She always had a gift for dissipating tension. Using shyunpo as well, he was hot on her heels, his blood thrumming with the challenge. Seeing her liveliness, remembering her generosity and frank emotions, hearing her cheekily boisterous taunts as she had improved enough to remain ahead of him, Byakuya was reminded of how easily they could both switch roles. And to savour the vividness of colour illuminating the wearer, left arm raised with a tattoo towards the sky, of swift surety in flight… for a moment, the phoenix that blossomed in front of him eclipsed the pink of cherry and purple of plums, to become the sun.

There was only her.

And it shook him to the core. He stopped. His heart was wondering where it lay. His mind took the opportunity to remind him that regardless of the years and whatever he did? Yoruichi was still unable to make up her mind and had always chosen Urahara Kisuke…

Sensing his halt, she stopped as well. Glancing back, the look on his face stumped her. U-turning, she came to a halt three paces from him and holding her hand out, smiled. It was confident, yet marred by a suspicious sheen in her eyes, dampening sea blue into a shiny calm.

"I bet even Kaien missed your friendship, Byakuya. Er. San."

He suddenly wanted to hug her for all the hurt he had caused, but resisted the urge. Striding forward and ignoring her left hand, he took her manufactured right hand and held it firmly for a moment, then let go. They eyed each other, noting the changes the years had wrought.

"I'm sure Kaien also misses his sister."

"Well, Kaien can go on missing me for quite a while! Because right now, I'm starving and not ready to join him!"

Attempting to hide a smile, he was daring enough to yank off the white strip of cloth she used as some misshapen hair band, and coolly walked away while ignoring her mildly affronted squawk.

"Would you like to join us for dinner at the family mansion? Rukia might be tired of seeing only my face at the table everyday."

"Why not? She's so shy!"

_Rukia, shy?Ahahahaha_- He coughed. Easily catching up to him, she started teasing him about how pretty his hair was, while he nagged her about wearing such an expensive gown properly and how not to ruin it. Questions about her arm and the origins of the robe could wait. Questions about his sudden ability to make jokes and be more emotive, and suddenly seeking her out for forgiveness could wait. All other icky questions about the past and present could wait. They were friends once more.

A simple finish to a simple day was perfect, and what everybody needed once in a while.


End file.
